


Even After a Lifetime

by Joydilouis86



Category: Falling - Harry Styles (Song), One Direction (Band), Walls - Louis Tomlinson (Album)
Genre: -but not that dark, Accidents, Age Difference, Ageism, Angels, Angst, Background Character Death, Barebacking, Bisexual Niall Horan, Blood and Injury, Bottom Harry Styles, Dark Romance, Do not read if age difference makes you cringe, Drug Abuse, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Fashion & Couture, Genderfluid Harry, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Homoeroticism, Journalist Louis, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major Age Gap, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mutual Pining, Mysticism, Older Louis, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Abuse, Polyamorous Character, Reincarnation, Rome - Freeform, Sapiosexuality, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Soulmates, They are both fully grown adults, Top Louis Tomlinson, Twin Souls, Younger Harry Styles, louis is fit, slightly a musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 190,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joydilouis86/pseuds/Joydilouis86
Summary: Louis has spent his entire youth searching for his mystery soulmate -a guy named Harry- a fortune teller had told him- but he never found him. Instead he ended up marrying a young debutante in an arranged marriage for mutual gain. A marriage that stifled every trace of the once young, adventurous boy that chased after a love he believed was somewhere waiting for him. Now a divorced man, he no longer believes in finding his one true love. On a desperate plea to recapture his youth, he decides to meet an escort at a hotel and finally be selfish. Plot twist- The escort's name is Harry...
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 110
Kudos: 274





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

>   
> Copyright. All rights reserved. 
> 
> Disclaimer:-This is a work of fiction and does not represent the real life counterparts depicted therein. 
> 
> WARNING- PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PRINT, OR DISTRIBUTE THIS WORK OUTSIDE OF SHARING LINKS TO THIS AO3 PAGE. PLEASE DO NOT TRANSLATE THIS STORY. THANK YOU.
> 
> Author notes- First I would like to say thank you so very much to everyone who helped beta-read the first three chapters of this. The rest were not beta-ed so forgive me if anything sticks out.  
> I have been working on this fic for two years now. I don't know what made me want to write a story like this but the idea just came to me and I needed do it. To me it is one of those stories that are hardly ever told, and I loved the months of work I put into it.
> 
> The dynamic might not be everyone's cup of tea so thank you to those who have an open enough mind to give it a read.  
> As you know I like to put the boys in the most precarious circumstances in my fics. 28 is Louis' number and by extension a larry number for different reasons. So I asked myself- What if they had a 28-year age difference? What would that be like providing the younger of the two is well into his twenties.  
> This fic is inspired by different things that will pop up in there, but to name one, one of the main themes was inspired by the classic tale of Beauty and the Beast.  
> About the setting- I was infatuated with Rome and did a bit of research but some things about the places etc will still not be accurate for one reason or the other. Nevertheless, I had a ball googling things about Rome and learning about that wondrous place to set the fic there.  
> Please do read on and let me know what you liked about the story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prologue is more like a mini part one with the length.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoy this feature and will stay for the entire fic.

**** **_“We think we meet someone with our eyes. But we actually meet them with our soul” ― Mimi Novic_ **

**1984**

As the violins began, his father took his mother’s hand and subtly nodded for him to do the same with the girl standing next to him. He did take her hand. But as soon as he did, he knew.

Exemplary decor in the majestic ballroom, glowing fire in iced chandeliers, large silver platters of stuffed eggs and other fancy finger foods; bulbous uncles bursting out of their petticoats as they cheered on their nephew; tattling aunts with hard faces and feather fans blowing their stiffly done hair as they judged. It was all way too much for an eighteen-year-old Louis.

"I'm sorry, Danielle, I don't think this is going to work out," he said confidently after finally kissing his girlfriend of a year on the dancefloor of his parents’ mansion.

It was their first official event since their arranged meeting by their parents. Louis’ father was a political bigwig recently knighted by the queen herself for his philosophical work and efforts to build a modernised society. A cuckoo-lamb, Louis had grown up spending many a night studying in the hopes of treading the same avenue, learning French and Italian, the piano- his proud father wanted nothing less. The man carried an air of sophistication born from experience and current status, and with it came a social life filled with events of grandeur and regularly hosted parties that were never much fun for Louis having to listen to aristocrats’ boring conversations and never getting to play with their children because they were trained to ‘sit and stay quiet!’

It was now at one such event that Louis was ordered by his father to ‘come out’ with his new girlfriend so he can introduce them to his friends and associates solely for the purpose of showing off a potential upscale daughter-in-law.

Now, Louis loved the magic of the ball and loved to see the dances though he was no good himself. He loved watching his parents dance especially. They had a synchronicity that only came from being in love with the right person. They were soulmates. As a child Louis would witness them accidentally say the same thing at the same time and laugh together at things nobody else thought funny. They’d catch each other’s eye in a sea of people and dance like they alone existed.

They even had a story about how they met. It was more like a fairy tale. When his mother was a young college student on tour in Rome studying the renaissance, she had visited a fortune teller booth on the Ponte Sant’Angelo, a bridge overlooking the Tiber river near Castel Sant’Angelo formally a mausoleum. According to her, the gypsy girl had told her exactly the name of who her soulmate would be and that she would meet him any minute, which his mother laughed off. But as soon as she stepped away from the booth and into the mausoleum, she bumped into the man who would become Louis’ father. He was in the city for a political conference, and was fifteen years her senior but they had fallen so quickly in love that they ended up conceiving Louis in Rome itself after which they flew back to England and got married as soon as possible. And the rest was history.

Louis had always told himself he wanted a love like that when he grew up. A soulmate. That’s why when he saw his parents take to the dance floor one more time before him, and he had taken Danielle’s hand to join them, he knew he had not found the One.

There was nothing wrong with Danielle. She had an exotic, sexy look that screamed Italian or Parisian. Louis liked Paris. His father took them there a couple times, but he really wished to see Rome, the place he was conceived. He had been infatuated with the Renaissance since he had encountered its magic in the pages of his mother’s old college books and wanted to see the monumental buildings in the background of so many pictures of his parents together and in love. But see, the thing about the Renaissance, while indulging in its fine art and homoerotic intricacy, one can realise their sexuality pretty much instantly.

But it took some years for Louis to get to this very moment. That and the fact that two minutes ago the waiter passed with a tray of wine glasses and he saw Danielle’s mouth wrinkle. It was a fine thing, barely noticeable. But Louis noted it as a clear deal breaker. Louis may have been born into money, but he was no snob. His father, though polite, was wistful in his dealings with the mansion staff and Louis thought his mother was way too dependent on the housekeeper. Louis though, liked to help the staff around the house and had gotten to know them over time like they were his own blood. Even that morning, he was asked casually by the butler to carry a case of frozen shrimp into the kitchen and ended up spending the day bustling up and down the halls helping the staff prepare for the event. And the frown, though a flicker, proved a subtle insult to his blood, and was just about the tip of the iceberg for Louis.

Flushed all over in her dress now, Danielle broke into a weak laugh at what Louis just said to her, eyes darting around the large ballroom as she 'casually' played with her diamond necklace. She tried to pull him onto the dancefloor as the waltz ensued, but he gently declined.

She brought up her chin quizzically. “I don’t understand.”

Louis glanced over to his parents who were now gliding effortlessly across the floor and sighed. _No, Danielle, you may never understand…_

"I like you, but as friends to just hang out on the roof eating meals and enjoying a Derby-" he blabbed, throat dry and barely giving room to speak.

Danielle’s face turned the color of a gravestone.

"I have to go," Louis said in a rush, turning and grabbing a freshly opened bottle of Pinot Noir from an ice bucket carried by the catering staff. 

And just like that, Louis walked out, shattering all his parents’ hopes and dreams for a Palatial June wedding. Past the lurking figures and lingering stares, he cracked a smile as he dashed through the huge double doors of his parents' mansion, undoing his necktie.

\--

The duffel bag was halfway stuffed and still gathering, his mother flashing questions at him. His father’s back was turned, and Louis could see the strained lines on his neck as he fought not to look at him.

Louis did not have time to argue. They were not going to talk him out of this. You don’t find your soulmate by looking into someone’s eyes for a whole year hoping for the moon to one day collide into the sun and burst into fireworks. He should not have let the shell of a relationship go on for so long. While he was out on the sidewalk downing the Pinot Noir, he had an epiphany. There was only one way to ensure you meet the right person.

“I want to go to Rome.”

His father flew around to face him, a bumpy vein in his temple. “Make me look like a fool in front of all my associates, run off on your fiancée, then say you want to leave the country?”

His mother kept the questioning. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I think I’m gay,” Louis said in an apologetic tone. “No, don't _think_. I know. I just don’t know for whom.”

His mother’s hands went to her mouth. His father blinked rapidly.

“That’s why I need to go,” Louis blew exasperatedly, abandoning packing. “Look at you two? You’re perfect. And look at me and Danielle. We barely have anything in common. I’m not attracted to her. I want what you have. I want to marry the person who gives me that.”

“So let me get this straight,” his father blinked and paused at the word. “You want to up and go to Rome because you believe you’re gay?”

His wife shot him a look. “No. don’t you get what he’s saying? He wants to find his soulmate the same way I did.”

Sir Tomlinson’s eyes leered between her and Louis.

“Are you out of your barking mind??” the man then shouted as Louis shoved rolled up jeans in the bag. “You can’t just tell yourself you’re gay just because you and Danielle hit a bump! You and Danielle-”

“She’s not my soulmate. I spent the hour struggling with how to tell you. but then I remembered you two met in Rome.” Louis pointed sharply at them. “I thought ‘that’s the place I’ll find them or at least get a name like you did mother. I figured you’d understand.”

Sir Tomlinson did not want to hear it. “You think it’s all poppies and periwinkles, do you? How do you think relationships work? You stick to it and you make it work! You think your mother and I simply fell into each other’s arms and that’s that? It took her long to adjust to my life! She could have just as easily taken you and walked away from all this. We had to struggle to make this work! Danielle enjoys horse racing...”

Louis’ face fell. His father had a reputation to upkeep and Louis eventually marrying Danielle, an associate’s daughter, was part of that. Louis understood, but he didn’t think his father would be so deaf to his plea for freedom. He looked up; his mother was looking at him with sympathy. Louis saw somewhere behind her cerulean eyes that she understood. And then he remembered that his mother was the one who told him the story of their meeting. She was the one the fortune teller read. His father must have been the sceptical one who laughed it off as a coincidence when it happened. Louis tried on the spot to get his father’s point of view. Yes, he and Danielle did have the derby in common, but he doesn’t ache when she’s not around or find silly reasons to show up at her house unannounced just to see her. They are not spontaneous. This isn’t love. He would go to the one city where he knows it happened.

“You’ll go,” his mother said suddenly. She had a sparkle in her that told Louis she was going to support him in this. Go and get the reading from the gypsy if it will put your mind at ease. When she gives you the name, come back home and we will see where we go from there.”

“Darling,” Louis’ father interjected.

“Let him go. It’s just a short trip to Rome and back. Once we have a name, we will discuss the next steps as a family.”

She took her husband’s arms rubbing up and down them, and his shoulders finally eased and he sighed. He gave a stiff nod to her, showing no sign of empathy.

She then turned to Louis and extended her arms. Tears bursting out of his eyes, Louis flung his arms around his mother, breathing in her hair and crying into her neck as she smoothed his hair and kissed his head. His father had nothing further to say. He had his head hung low now in a stance that let Louis know he still thought he was making a big mistake.

°°°

After landing in Italy with nothing but a duffel bag he marched onward to the train station. There, hordes of people hustled to get tickets to the city. That’s where Louis was headed. Rome, the city of the soul.

Minutes later after chipping behind laggard passengers to get out of the metro, he stepped out into the Roman streets. Strolling along the piazza, Louis pulled out his polaroid camera and took a look around, familiarising himself with the city. Shiny cobblestones under his feet and flocks of pigeons gliding over the tall arched buildings with a middle-ages flair, he could smell the freedom in the new magical city that held an epic adventure. He did not know how long he would stay but this was where he wanted to be for now. His father had yelled and condemned his novaturient misbehaviour but Louis was rock-solid in his determination.

Turning into another street he noticed it was getting cooler as the sun was slowly disappearing. He didn’t want to be left in the dark on his first day in the new city, so he decided to go in search of a place to rest his head for the night. His first mission in the morning will be to find the gypsy who read his mother’s fortune. He had asked his mother what she looked like and whether she thought the woman would still be there. She told him that if she wasn’t at the same place she was eighteen years ago, that fate will lead him to her. That’s if she wasn’t dead already.

The next day, Louis woke up in the motel massaging his neck, thoughts of finding the fortune teller in his mind. He leaned halfway off the bed and dug around his duffle bag for some clothes. A brochure fell out. He had taken it from a pile on the front desk on entering the motel. He picked it up.

_MAUSOLEUM SANT' ANGELO. TOURS AND ADVENTURE. MYSTERIOUS AND SACRED. COME AND EXPERIENCE!_

That was exactly where his mother met his father. The mausoleum was just past the Ponte Sant’Angelo where he might find the gypsy.

He got himself ready and trudged out the door to breakfast, shoving the brochure in his bag.

As he made his way, he soaked in the sights and sounds, and took pictures of himself standing in front of ancient statues in the fountains, taking in the wondrous views of the enchanted city with buildings that seemed taller than the sky.

Soon he approached the Ponte Sant’Angelo. His eyes caught the booths lining the bridge with charlatans and merchants hoping to make a quick dollar off tourists and travellers. He immediately noticed a crowd around a particular vendor, and he trotted over to it.

Letting out a tiny gasp, he saw that it was indeed a fortune teller booth that had attracted such a large crowd. He pushed through, and there his eyes widened- in a purple velvet dress as long as the dragging drapery of the curtain that adorned the booth, behind a small table with a smoky moon-like crystal ball, sat a gypsy woman.

This must be her, he thought. The graceful lines on her otherwise tanned, round face, sold her age to be about a match with how old his mother said she might be now, in her sixties.

"Excuse me?” he asked a random man in the crowd. “Is she any good? You know?" He needed to make sure it was the right gypsy. The one who gave real readings.

"The best!” the man, brown-nosed and missing-toothed said with a pep. “She predicted my ten children."

Louis laughed, then noticed the look on the man's face and realised he was not joking.

He looked and saw the fortune teller's entranced eyes on him. She almost knocked over the tiny table to hobble up to him. Louis froze as she came closer to him stopping at his toes.

“In all my years,” she whispered, taking his hand, “I have never felt such energy. Reunion is close.”

“Reunion?” was all Louis managed to say. Up close there was a large dark growing mole on her cheek, and her eyes seemed to go as deep as tiny crystal balls themselves.

"This is incredible," the woman said, running her fingers up his arm and clasping his cheeks.

“I came to get a reading. I want to know the name of my soulmate.”

“Soulmate?” The gypsy said as if it was the most preposterous wish.

“Isn’t that what you do?”

The gypsy suddenly broke into a smile, still ogling him. Louis huffed. What was so funny? _Just give me the name so I can be on my way._

“Stay in Rome a while,” she said, almost as if she had read his mind and was giving a reply to his thoughts.

Louis shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “Why can’t you give me the name now?”

“Stay in the city for a few days. If you still want the name of your soulmate after that then you can return to me.”

“What’s the difference between then and now?”

The gypsy’s smile grew wider. “I’m not allowed to say. Go, enjoy the city.”

She eased off and went hobbling back over to the table to attend to her initial client.

Louis walked away reluctantly. She must have some psychic blockage or something that might clear in a few days, he told himself. He figured he’d do as she said and hang around Rome a bit longer and wait.

Feeling hungry now, he figured he’d head back off the bridge for lunch and then come back to take a tour of the mausoleum. He passed interesting bread shops and strange-candy stores and a flower shop with healthy bunches of lilies and marigolds.

He then spotted a riverside restaurant that looked inviting. Feeling a strange burst of euphoria to try it out, he ventured forward. Bistro chairs on the cobblestones outside with tint vases of flowers on the tables with shiny name-plated balustrade in the background doing nothing to block the delectable smell coming from inside, the place looked like the real deal, not those makeshift, romantic restaurants back home. He opened the vintage-green door. It was a spacious rectangular room, high ceiling with exposed floorboards and a huge deer head as ornament on the main wall. There was a hectic line at the counter but Louis was going to wait if it meant tasting whatever menu’ from the kitchen.

Last in the long line, he was about to open his wallet, when someone came crashing into him; a boy of about his age, medium-built, short blond hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" said the bloke.

Louis looked at him; a smooth-face, rosy cheeks and a carefree air to him, the bloke’s frosted turquoise eyes fixed on Louis with a lidless glare.

He then straightened himself behind Louis and opened his sack.

Louis looked down into the bag and gasped. "Are you off your meds? Why are you walking around with all that cash in your sack?"

The young man shot him a glare. "Mind your own business."

For some reason the rebut did not faze Louis. "Hey, I'm just trying to get some food and head to the Castel Sant’Angelo. I’m just saying, it’s a big city and you shouldn’t be careless with your sack."

Something in what Louis said seemed to spark an interest in the bloke and he nodded enthusiastically. "I’m going there myself.”

"I found you!" A gravelly voice called from the entrance.

Louis turned- a short paunchy man, with a bulbous nose and a face that seemed to continue into his neck was in the entrance, eyes beading down on the blonde boy.

Grabbing Louis' shoulders, the blonde guy dashed behind him. "Quick- Hide me!"

“Did you think you would get away?” the man snarled at him, brandishing a fist.

Louis held up his hands as he marched over. Sensing danger, Louis stepped aside but the blonde didn’t let go of him. He shoved Louis forward and past the man, taking him straight out of the restaurant. The man appearing behind them, the boy grabbed on Louis' coat and yanked him into a scuttle down the road.

They ran around a corner and all the way past the monumental piazzas, their shirts undulating in the warm breeze. They did not stop until they reached a junction and Louis spotted water.

Clutching on a travertine banister, out of breath, Louis threw his eyes on their surroundings and saw they were back on the Ponte Sant’Angelo. He glanced behind him. The man was no longer in sight.

“He’s gone,” Louis stopped and called to the boy, his feet throbbing from the pressure of the bumpy cobblestones, but the boy was still on a marathon for the mausoleum. Catching his breath for a moment, Louis followed, not knowing why. As he ran past the vender booths he looked out for the gypsy and was almost stunned to see her eyes were already on him. She had the same smile, this time more of a vindicated smirk. He wanted to stop and ask her what was so damn funny but his chest slammed into something, hard. Shaking himself out of the stupor, he realised the boy had stopped abruptly and he had rammed into his back.

Regaining orientation, he saw that the reason he had stopped to walk slower was because they were now on mausoleum grounds.

“Who was that?” Louis asked out of breath.

 _“Shh,”_ the boy said.

As they sauntered over the cobbled stone, Harry noticed a group of tourists at the entrance of the building being lectured by a young tour guide. The boy had stopped to listen. Louis observed the squinted smirk on his face when the girl spotted them. Sensing some familiarity there, Louis looked at her- A cute, doll-like face, dark hair in neat unified strands down to her jaw, she had a blazing stare.

 _"...The rebirth of the Renaissance…”_ she was saying to the group. _"The Black Death took many in the city... Pope Gregory lifted his head to wipe the sweat on his brow and saw atop the mausoleum, an angel brandishing a silver sword. The angel proceeded to lay it into his sheath. Pope Gregory took this as a sign that the black plague had ended. Many still believe that the sick can touch the mausoleum grounds, gain the archangel's mercy and be healed."_

"I’m supposed to be on that tour,” Louis said, pointing tentatively to the group.

“Relax, I’ll give you my own tour,” the boy said, still smirking at the girl.

 _"A marble statue of the archangel Michael was laid down to remember this merciful time,"_ the tenacious brunette continued zealously to the crowd, throwing the boy a glare. _" And it was later replaced by a bronze one of the same stature...”_

He steered Louis away finally. “Okay, Louis. Let's take you on a real tour,” he threw an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “Now, did you know that this mausoleum is more fascinating than what they tell you on tours? In ancient Roman times, public execution was carried out by drowning criminals right there in the Tiber!” The boy said it with a sparkle in his eye and an air like he was made to be on the BBC story-telling roster, even with his Irish cockney. Louis couldn’t help but snort at his enthusiasm.

“In the reign of Tiberius, convicts were simply pushed into the water,” he went on, “Ordinary robbers and Christian pontiffs alike. In the 4th century AD, the Mulvian bridge hosted a battle to the death between emperors Maxentius and Constantine for the dominant religion. Maxentius was drowned in the Tiber, and Constantine became the sole Christian emperor of Rome.”

Louis knew all this from his mother’s books, though not so keen on stories that predated the Renaissance. But for some reason he found himself engrossed in this ‘tour.' He reckoned it was because he was in the presence of someone who had an equally intelligent interest in Rome like he did.

“Hold your buttons!” a voice panted from behind them as they trod along the marble floors.

Louis’ new friend sighed and let out a curse word under his breath. Louis turned and saw the girl stride up to them.

“I do not run operations for free,” she said in a high pitched, slightly orotund voice. “Where is the rest of my money?”

“Oh shut it,” the boy said at the same time that Louis said; “What sort of operation would that be?”

“You sold me dried thyme instead of wacky baccy,” the boy continued, face hardening. Louis’ eyebrows shot upward.

“Oh, like I don’t know what I’m selling,” replied the girl rhetorically.

“Whatever that shit was, it wasn’t cannabis!” he shot back. He then turned to Louis. “Weed dealer.”

Mouth falling open, Louis stepped back and put a hand to his heart. A fresh, full face with a round, happy-go-lucky chin, she looked nothing like a stereotypical dealer.

“Is that your smoking partner?” the brunette girl snarled at the blonde boy.

“Louis,” Louis corrected. The boy’s eyes flashed as though checking to see if he looked like a _Louis_ , and Louis just realised he and the boy hadn’t properly introduced themselves to each other.

“Hailee,” the girl quipped, looking to the boy now for his name, hand on her hip. But his eyes were still on Louis.

“Niall,” he said, eyes rolling around the perimeters of Louis’ face as though only now seeing him for the first time. He then grabbed Louis’ hand and looked pointedly at the girl, who looked down at it and blushed white. Louis too was frozen looking at the place where their hands were linked.

Hailee then eased and dropped her hand and sighed. “Well, there is the couples’ discount. You’re lucky today, Niall.”

She did a weird half-curtsy and crept away quickly.

Louis’ eyes narrowed at the quizzical behavior, of both her and this _Niall._ Then it hit him. Niall was trying to make the girl go away.

Taking back his hand and ignoring the micro-charged static in it, he laughed. “You tell her that to get rid of her, or because you like her and don’t know how to tell her?”

Niall looked like someone just pulled on his jock strings. “Definitely the first one.”

°°°

“So what brought you to the eternal city?” Niall asked, biting down on his gigantic sandwich. He had brought Louis back to the same place they met, Jalil’s, and ordered two _panini con lampredotto_ handcrafted by Mr Jalil himself _._

Pulling open his wrapper to bite into his extra-olive-filled bread, Louis looked over at the giant deer head on the wall. “I- You first. Who was that guy chasing us before?”

“Guelfo. A friend of my parents,” Niall replied looking down at his drink. “I’m originally from Ireland but they sent me to stay with him last month to go to college here. My dad wants me in the Vatican.”

Louis threw him a look. Getting a job in the Vatican even with top qualifications was just about as easy as Add Math.

Niall quickly explained. “He has a lot of friends here. He’s a master of Theology. Met the Pope once.”

“Really? That’s awesome. My father has a knighthood.”

“That’s charged! Did he send you to study too?”

“No. I came on my own. He wanted me to be like him but I need to forge my own path but I guess in a way I’m following in his footsteps,” he added thinking of the way his parents met and why he was here. “He wanted me to marry this girl, Danielle...but I...” Louis let the silent meaning speak.

“I get it. My dad’s a holy Joe too. I was supposed to go to Trinners but he sent me all the way out here so he won’t have to see me.” Niall looked down, tone descending into its own similar story. “Guelfo thinks because he knew my dad way back when, he has some kind of ownership over me. My dad thinks he sent me to this grand manor. More like manure. A real kip. Good thing my cousin Duncan didn’t come with. He begged but he’s only fifteen.”

Niall’s eyes locked on Louis then, plain and level, unblinking. And Louis did not know how but he understood everything they said.

“You can come stay at the motel with me if you want.” It was only after the words flew out that Louis realised he said it but he did not regret, this Guelfo was disgusting.

Niall wiggled his eyes around Louis’ face for confirmation that he was indeed serious. When he got an acute nod in response, a smile broke out on his freckles. 

“Now you’re suckin diesel!” he leaped up.

°°°

Louis woke up with a strange arm draped over his chest. Absorbing his surroundings, he gathered he was in his own motel room. But who was this snoring like a pig beside him, _on_ him. He was completely naked under the sheets, but what’s more his clothes, _and_ those of the stranger were flung in the most precarious places in the room-over the dresser mirror, hanging on the edge of the bedpost, hooked around the sleeping guy’s foot like it didn’t make it off of him before the action started. There was also a pizza box and a nearly-empty bottle of Gin laying in the midst of a pile of condoms scattered about the wooden floor, some of which were busted up and feculent. The whole scene made Louis’ heart beat like a marching band.

_Oh god, I slept with someone!_

Quickly panicking himself out from below the person, he caught a glimpse of the face. _Oh, it's Niall, who stayed up late with me discussing golf versus football, and giving a lecture about the Vatican probably while we shared that bottle on the floor._

Niall shifted awake and rolled twice until he almost fell off the bed. Lucky thing Louis grabbed him before he could fall. The boy seemed to have forgotten where he was and who was there with him, and he back-hand-whacked Louis right in the nose, screaming like a hyena and flying out of bed.

“We didn’t...?” Niall from Louis to his bedsheets.

“ _Ow!”_ Louis moaned, checking for blood. His mind replete with images, he looked at Niall with bashful, discomfited eyes. “It would seem so.”

From the sides of his nose as he pinched it up, he saw it all come flooding back on Niall's face; The jokes.., the bonding over shared taste in music.., the rough play over the remote trying to flip between football and golf channel.., the ultimate splitting of the last pizza slice in half after neither of them wanted to take it, even though both were still hungry.., the sex. 

Gosh, the sex came to Louis like tidal wave. Him grabbing Louis' polyester collar into a kiss, soft and warm as Louis settled in it. Louis’ shoulders relaxing and his nostrils flaring, letting out a large amount of mustered air as he had taken his breath away; Niall pulling out of the kiss and running his tongue down Louis’ neck and past his collarbone, making everything shiver. Then he remembered Niall getting on his knees to unbuckle his belt as he looked up at him with doe eyes. And an inebriated Louis only answering in grunts as he let himself be taken by the guy’s mouth. He had never experienced anything like that before.

He blinked and realised they had been both staring into each other’s eyes, remembering the same thing. Louis was unsure whether to ask him to leave or go running himself, when a smile crept on the corners of Niall's mouth. It was a warm smile that said it all. It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed. I had a great time. This doesn’t have to be over. And almost threw out his guts apologizing endlessly for hitting Louis in the nose.

They took turns showering, and Niall stuck all his belongings in his pocket. Louis handed him his pouch and his remaining zoots, remembering they shared that too. He hung about unsurely, wondering if this was the part where the boy leaves on his merry way. Somehow the thought of that sent a net of panic through his bloodstream and he found himself unable to breathe.

"Come on," Niall said, holding out his palm. "Let's go get a good Italian breakfast. I know a place.”

And Louis took his hand. And that’s how he knew.

°°°

They bought breakfast from a food stand near the Trevi fountain. Niall randomly ordered something in Italian not knowing what it was, and Louis snickered at him and ordered something he didn’t know either, and they sat on a bench,sharing both meals. Niall fed him his order by hand and laughed when Louis thought it tasted disgusting.

A crowd dissipated and cleared up a space in front of the fountain, and the sea god statue became visible. While looking at it and eating, Louis heard a tiny metal _ping_ and saw, in the corner of his eye, a coin go flying into the water a few feet away. He turned to see Niall, eyes beaming, reaching his face over to him. He was swept into a kiss, food still in his mouth, and when it was over he looked down at the lead-colored cobblestones and continued chewing.

“That’s not cricket,” he blushed.

The younger boy blushed too and they continued eating in silence with Louis catching stolen glances from Niall. On the fourth look Louis asked, “What?”

With the tilt of his head while swallowing down the last of his food, Niall said, “Your mincers are way bluer than mine.”

Louis felt his face go warm at the compliment.

“So you really thought coming all the way to Rome and talking to a fortune teller would lead you to your soulmate, huh?”

Louis laughed. He had told him his plan last night, somewhere between the pizza and the hot sex. 

“I guess I wanted what my parents have.”

Niall swallowed all his food and licked his lip thoughtfully. “Well, at least you didn’t come in vain.” 

His lips moved in closer again, slower this time, taking in Louis features up close before closing his eyes and kissing him deeply.

Most of the day was spent sightseeing. Niall took Louis on a tour of St Peter’s Basilica, they talked some more about their families, and Niall insisted he visit Ireland with him and meet his mother, and blatantly invited himself to Louis’ parents’ mansion- _“We’re gonna go and we’re gonna tell your dad he either has to accept you the way you are or you’re leaving for Ireland with me for good.”_

Louis replied with yeses, sure in his heart about the plan. 

As the day began turning into evening, they started their stroll back to the motel. The muffle of the Tiber growing stronger in his nostrils as they neared it again, Louis suddenly remembered the fortune teller. Letting out a little gasp, he gently grabbed his new friend’s hand and led him onto the Ponte Sant'Angelo.

He felt Niall’s grip grow tense as they approached the booth. He held Louis’ hand firm, careful not to lose him in the crowd. Louis’ heart pelted when the gypsy fortune teller’s eyes caught sight of them. Niall saw this and grew even more tentative, quickly proposing they head back inside for the night. But Louis had other plans. The prophecy.

“This is what I came to do, Niall. I already found you. The least I can do is get the confirmation. Don’t you want to hear your name called?”

“No,” Niall answered, searching deep into Louis’ eyes for some kind of rationality. “What if the name she gives is not mine. Are you willing to take that chance?”

Louis hesitated, then laughed it off. “Let’s just ask her. It can’t hurt.”

Niall’s jaw tightened just an inkling, but it said volumes. He was mad. Scared even. But Louis knew he was his soulmate. He felt it in his bones.

"Please,” Louis said, smiling imploringly at Niall, and the man squeezed his hand. “Fine, get your reading so we can get out of here before nightfall.”

Louis hooked an arm over Niall’s shoulder as they joined the short line. The woman was reading the palm of a customer and sputtering, "Doom. _Woebegone,"_ making Niall laugh at the cowering customer gasping at his fate. 

His boisterous laughter caught the attention of the woman, whose eyes widened upon seeing them.

The scarf around her head threatened to cover her eyes as they focussed on Louis from her seat in front of the mystic globe. She looked at him with such a baffled look that Louis was beginning to suspect she was going senile.

She stuck out her index, ignoring the grumpy queue in front of them, and gave a ‘come hither’ gesture. Louis let go of Niall’s hand and rushed over to sit at the table.

She clutched his hand. “Why have you come back?”

“You told me to.”

She cast opal eyes briefly on Niall, who stood close behind, but did not comment on his presence.

“You said you’d give me the name of my soulmate,” he looked around the table like the answer was somewhere hidden among the tarot cards and smoky essence filled lamps.

The woman shook her head dismissively. “It has been years since I did a soulmate reading.”

“You did one for my mother. You told her my father’s name.”

Her left eyebrow cocked like a dog’s ear and she looked at him with a squint like she was trying but did not recall.

Niall made a loud sigh from behind Louis and checked some bills in his hand, throwing them on the table. “Just read him some cards or something.”

Louis sensed his impatience. Somewhere behind the line on the bridge a puppy had started yapping wildly, causing the booth’s crowded line to disperse and gibber expletives.

The woman flashed Niall a brief glare and swiped the money off the table and into her waist pouch. She then grabbed up a stack of cards and shuffled them, flicking them face down hard on the table.

 _“Love,”_ she said to Louis in a serious tone, her lacquered nails moving about the cards theatrically. “A pure, overwhelming and lasting love surrounds you. It comes, at twenty-three, one that defies odds and stands the ultimate test of time.”

Louis’ shoulders shuddered on hearing that.

“Twenty-three?”

The woman did not reply. Another card flipped, and her entire expression changed to a grave one. 

“There is some darkness ahead,” she said, talking more to the cards than Louis. “You shall wait in Rome for some time.” She finally looked up at Louis for that last part.

Niall pursed his lips in disbelief. Louis was puzzled.

“That is all I can say,” she said in a mordant tone, eyes going large.

“Surely that can’t be all for the price,” Niall fretted over Louis’ shoulder.

With an offended look, the woman quickly began to scoop the cards up.

Louis slammed his palm down on the cards to stop her. “I need a name,” he demanded. Louis cared not about the number. If the name was _Niall,_ he didn’t mind waiting until either himself or the blond turned twenty-three. He would wait for Niall however long he had to.

A faint ‘ _sorry,’_ blended in with the crowd’s expletives at the dog; a little toy poodle, Louis saw as he stole a glimpse. The springy ball of cotton was being yanked by its fine leash away from the vicinity of the booth by its owners- a pudgy kid, no more than fourteen in a _Ghostbusters_ Tee -which made Louis think about Niall since they talked about going to see the new movie together-, a dirty pair of Converse shoes, and owlish orange spectacles under a web of frizzy hair; and a couple of adults with necked cameras scoffing at him to hurry along, wilfully ignorant that the mutt was at fault. Louis didn’t blame them. It was growing dark. 

More dollars flew over Louis’ shoulder as he turned back to the woman- Niall was mindful of the time as well.

The woman swiped it away once more and took Louis’ hand, rubbing his palm.

“Let’s make this simple," Louis said, pulling back his hand. “Is the boy standing behind me my soulmate?”

Her face turned pitiful. “I can only give a name.” She gave long-vowel emphasis on the _a._

“Then give me the name,” Louis said impatiently as the barking faded into the lap of the crowd.

The woman gave an affirmative nod and regained his hand. Closing her eyes, she rubbed the surface of his palm carefully, her nails mildly grazing his skin.

Niall scoffed. “She's not _that_ good. She could say any Tom, Dick or-"

 _"Harry!"_ the woman exclaimed, cutting across Niall, her eyes still closed and concentrated on Louis’ palm. "His name is _Harry_ ,” she reiterated in a softer, airy tone. “But not just any old Harry. He is _your_ Harry. He will come into your life when you least expect it." She smiled at Louis so reassuringly he was sold on the spot.

“Harry…” he whispered.

"Great, this is destiny,” Niall deadpanned, glowering down at the woman. “The angels in the mausoleum are surely on your side.”

 _"Angels?”_ the woman grunted, missing the sarcasm. “I do _not_ work with the angels.” She looked warily at the stone figures. They hate our kind. They have different plans for how destiny plays out.”

Scoffing, Niall then threw some dollars at the woman and grabbed Louis’ hand, marching away from the booth.

They had gotten clear off the bridge when Louis stopped. Niall turned. His nostrils were flaring and his free fist curled up. Louis felt the sudden urge to kiss the anger away.

“Did you just hear what she said?” Louis said, barely a whisper. Here he was in Rome, having embarked on a new adventure in a new enticing city to find that special person to share his life with. Getting that name was exactly what he wanted. But why did it feel like his guts were being pulled and wrung around his heart?

"Forget what she said,” Niall dismissed. “We’re going to England to see your folks and then I'm taking you to see Ireland like we planned.”

Louis’ head started to shake involuntarily. “You heard her. I must wait in Rome until either me or my soulmate turns twenty-three and are able to meet. Besides, what am I supposed to go home and tell my parents? I didn’t come here for nothing.”

Niall laughed dryly at his naïveté. “You wanna stay in Italy for _five years_ until god knows when on the happenstance you meet some guy? I shoulda known you weren’t the full shilling.”

“If it were you- Put yourself in my shoes- If you knew there was someone destined for you...Wouldn’t you wait?”

“You’re honestly doing this right now?” Niall put his hands behind his head. “It’s a damn tarot card reader! That stuff isn’t even real!”

“My parents happened,” Louis shouted. “It happened to my mother the same way and it just happened to me. I can’t ignore that.”

Niall gave him a look right then, and he didn’t have to add words to it. In the darkening street under the auburn sky, Louis knew what it said- _But my name isn’t Harry._

“We had fun didn’t we? We slept together...”

“We were drunk...and high.” Heart burning, Louis tried to reason with himself.

“So, what are you saying?”

"I'm saying I want to meet this Harry. I know what soulmates look like together. You and I were drunk and high and it’s gonna fade and we’ll come to our senses soon.”

“I’m not stupid, Louis. I know what love feels like.”

“This isn’t love. And until I find it I can’t go traipsing around Rome with you!”

Niall’s face turned lithic.

Chest heaving, Louis marched off into the night to find the nearest telephone booth. He had to tell his parents he was staying in Rome indefinitely. He did not want to think of how they were going to react. It was impossible to think at all- his senses were _whooshing_ all around him like a hurricane, and he could barely see ahead with the biting pain weighing him down.

He magically reached one on a street corner and shakily put some coins in the slot.

The butler picked up and Louis forced a giggle to match the man’s happy tone at hearing his voice. After a short exchange, he put Louis on his mother. He could hear his father muttering in the background and it was enough to clear his head. He told them only about the fortune teller making careful steps to leave out Niall. He could not deal with the embarrassment.

"Oh, hey Mum. Yeah, I saw the Castle. Looks like a giant can of tuna if yuh ask me… Yeah, the fortune teller, oh yes, she said I can’t come home until I meet him,” he said after giving them Harry’s name.

“Oh no, Louis, you can’t stay there. It’s so many miles away.”

Louis was about to explain that he would be fine, when his father’s voice took over.

“I let you go and you run away? You make a fool of me?”

“I have to. I can’t come back without him,” Louis’ voice cracked into the mouth-piece, only Niall’s face in his head tearing him to pieces.

His mother regained the phone. “Sweetheart, are you sure about this?”

No mum, he wanted to say. But instead he asked. “How did you know, mum? How did you know it was father and not some other Mark who got away? How will I know it’s the right Harry and not someone else?” He needed to ask it. He had been so hasty to fall for Niall, and it hurt too much he never wanted to make the same mistake again.

His mother said into the phone; “You’ll know. Even when the world is against it and you try to comply and ignore it and it doesn’t go away, you’ll know. You’ll know when it is impossible to put it at rest.”

Louis’ grandparents didn’t like his mother at all when she showed up on their mansion threshold with her frizzy hair and a small baby bump. She was not good enough for their son. Louis heard the pain in her voice as she recalled it now. But even as a boy Louis watched his mother try to get along with them until they died. She would go to all the balls toe to toe with Mark, eager to fit in. When Louis was a baby she twisted her ankle while trying to impress her mother-in-law at one. His father took time off from his work and taught her how to dance so she wouldn’t fall again. So the woman knew what she was talking about. She could speak from experience and tell Louis what needed to be done.

Louis thanked her and asked if his father was still there. “He’s here,” she said, a slight edge in her tone.

“Father?” Louis said. “Father, you there?”

There was no reply. Louis heard his mother make a noise like she was fighting to hold back on speaking.

He tried again. “Tell me you understand, Father.” He needed to hear it. Looking out into the dark night, he needed it more than ever.

The man said nothing.

“Father?” Louis’ voice began to crumble in the empty receiver. Just when he heard his mother begin the first vowel of his name, the coins ran out.

Alone in the booth, feet wobbling below him, the darkness of a strange, howling Rome around him, Louis began to cry.

Sobbing, he let his head drop forward to hit the phone container, and an arm reached across his shoulders, shielding the impact. He did not have to look up. He knew who it was. Sobbing harder, his voice mangled, he swung around and let himself be held by Niall.

°°°

**Niall pov**

He couldn’t walk away. He tried going the other way after Louis left him in the dust but his feet were like rusty gears that only worked one way- towards Louis. He knew the boy was new to Rome, and the city that had been enchanted in the sun was encompassing like an endless cave at night, intimidating for any newcomer who did not know the streets.

It was a good thing he went. It was a bad thing because he had been- for all intents and purposes- rejected. But good because he had just enough time to stop him from falling to the grimy booth floor. Niall had slung his arm around his shoulder and navigated his way back to the boy’s motel room, hearing his sobs harmonising with the mews of cats lurking around the garbage cans and the gentle coos of the roost of pigeons settled on the tenement roofs as they passed.

The sobs had died down by the time Niall reached the room. Now breaking a panini sandwich in a little more than half as Louis wrapped himself in a tight knot on the bed with his back turned to him, silent, Niall sat on the bed.

“Here, you gotta eat something,” he said, holding out the bigger half.

The generic flow of questions; Why was he doing this...? Why was he still here...? Niall put both pieces on the nightstand and gently tugged at him. 

When Louis turned around to face him Niall said to his tear stained face; “You’re in a strange city, I’m in a strange city. But it’s less scary when you have company.”

Frowning, the boy nudged away to mope again but Niall held him firm. “Look, if you really believe that some other guy is your soulmate I won’t stand in the way of that. Maybe we shouldn’t have jumped into things headfirst without thinking. So how about we start over. How about we start with a sandwich and talk about what we’re gonna do in Rome until this Harry shows up, aye?”

°°°

**Niall pov**

**1985**

_‘First kick I took was when I hit the ground. End up like a dog beaten up too much,’_

Niall boomed as he sped down the road in his new speed yellow BMW with Louis in shut-gun dressed in his new work clothes clutched onto the door in fright. Not long after the prophecy had happened, Louis and Niall had opted on a more long-term living arrangement in Esquiline. A two-bedroom house; viridian interior walls with soft lowlights. They had been living off Louis’ trust fund for months -Rome was pricey- until he finally drained it getting Niall the new ride to get to college, which those semester fees saw some of Louis’ funding as well. Louis did not mind, Niall's father cut him off after hearing he ditched Guelfo. Louis wanted Niall to tell his family what Guelfo was like but Niall was too ashamed.

Louis could ask his mother to send monthly cheques but he didn’t want to live off his father’s earnings anymore. The man hardly spoke to him again over the phone whenever his mother called. A waned grunt, sometimes an overzealous hoot, Louis had said. Niall had reminded him it was one of those things parents forget- what the adolescent yearning at the cusp of adulthood harbored. And that he mustn’t let his father’s straight jacket back on again from as far as a spellbinding place like Rome. So his friend had just gotten a new job editing English articles for a local newspaper. It was an entry level job at a chokingly small establishment, according to him, but he did express excitement to be a part of something that allows people’s ideas to be shared with the world.

"Bruce Springsteen is my jam. Born in the USA. We should go sometime," Niall said, ignoring Louis’ looks of terror from him to the steering wheel. "I'm not going anywhere until I meet Harry,” said Louis matter-of-factly.

Niall rolled his eyes and went quiet. Why did Louis have to bring up this ‘Harry’ in every conversation? It had been a year since the prediction. For the first few months Niall had tried to distract Louis from the fortune teller’s words and get him to consider leaving Italy, but he did not budge. So Niall got a job at Jaleel’s (the owner was a bubbly man who was teaching him the language) while he studied History which Louis agreed to continue to help pay the tuition for the next few years with this new job. Lavished with a car and other less- thrifty-gifts by the older boy, Niall had no reason to complain or fret at the mention of this Harry person- if he can even call it a person. He was more like a shadow looming over their otherwise perfect pairing, taking the place of romantic affection that would be the cherry on top of their life in the wondrous city.

“You know what?” he said, “I was born to be a rock star, hopping around with a guitar.” He changed gears and turned down the intersection near the Castel Sant’Angelo south side. "I'd give my car to be Bruce Springsteen!"

Louis laughed in reply as they passed the majestic mausoleum. "Okay, Bruce, let's get me to work first.”

They belted down the highway trying for Louis not to be late for work.

“I bet Harry has an arse like Bruce Springsteen,” Louis said out of the blue.

Niall squinted his eyes in confusion for a second before refocusing on the road.

“Manners,” Louis babbled on happily. “Sharply dressed but cute and sweet. See, Niall, I have this whole thing for after we meet; I’ll sing him a song while he plays the piano, he’ll call me Love, we’d both like marigolds.”

_Okay, Love._

Not that Niall believed the fortune teller’s words at all, but she did not say that Harry would be exactly what Louis wanted him to be. It seemed the man was creating the perfect guy in his head and hoping the actual guy would just _fall in line_. If he was even an actual guy.

Niall scratched his head, baffled as to why anyone would wait for love for _five years_.

“You know,” he suggested, “it wouldn't hurt to hang out with someone in the meantime…”

Louis shot him a glare. “Are you daft? I can’t do that. That's cheating!”

_But you already cheated..._

Niall lifted his eight fingers off the wheel and said nothing more.

Louis ceased fire and continued dreamily. “You remember what she said; he’s going to be the kindest, most attentive boyfriend."

Niall sighed. _‘If it were you.... Put yourself in my shoes. If you knew there was someone destined for you.... Wouldn’t you wait?’_

"Don't forget to buy the clothespins after work," Louis said as they slowed down on his building, "The wooden ones. Those plastic ones dry-rot easy."

"Okay, Love," Niall laughed. Louis was messy but he made sure they both at least had clean clothes. One of the qualities Niall loved about his personality.

 _One down, four to go,_ he said to himself, watching Louis’ back as he climbed out and headed to work.

°°°

**1987**

Legs out on the sand, Louis submerged himself in the Italian version of _The Ballad of Reading Gaol_ by Oscar Wilde to sharpen his knowledge of the language. Morbid reading but immersive.

“Did you know that sea snails produced a purple dye that was so pricey only royalty wore its fabrics?” Niall called out from the water’s edge. “The ancient Romans used it for dyeing togas.” He and Niall often visited the Tyrrhenian coast, where Niall- who Louis swore had conchylomania, _‘madness for collecting shells’-_ used them as cheap decoration in their small apartment.

“Will you put the poor thing back. They must have killed so many of them, they’re almost extinct.”

“Hey who’s the anthropologist here?”

Louis let out a snort. A now twenty-year-old Niall just started his senior year and had secured an internship with Dr Alex De Renzo, a decorated Greco-Roman historian, for the remainder of his time at the University.

Niall ran up to Louis with a particularly large one, and slumped down opposite him. Pretending to use the shell as a phone, he mumbled about being glad they both got the day off from their jobs and even though Louis didn’t help him dig in the sand he was still taking him to dinner later. He rolled his eyes when Louis’ only reply was a distracted hum from between his split book.

Louis liked classic novels, Niall was into history. He never understood shit like the Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare Louis was into and pouted whenever Louis gave a quote of one of his favorite poets.

“I don’t get why you like fiction,” he said, the breeze whistling against his skin. “Why submerge yourself in something that isn’t real when you have so much rich concrete history to grab on to.”

Louis turned the page. “A lot of ancient history is wrapped up in stories and myths. How do we even know half of your ‘concrete’ history is even true?”

Niall tusked. “There is evidence to support. English playwrights taking credits for making up stories you tell a child. Tell me about their _life_ instead of their writing.”

“Those stories entertain us and spark our thinking. And, I’ll have you know that man, who’s work you’re mouthing off, isn’t English. He’s Irish like yourself. How’s that for true history?”

“Really? What else about this guy you wanna share? Anything interesting?”

Louis thought. “He wrote timeless classics. He was gay, possibly bi. Died three years after he served a two-year imprisonment.”

“What the hell did he get arrested for, boring someone to death with his... ‘ _Ballads of Gaol’_?” He read from the cover.

“Being gay.” Louis was blunt. “This is about stuff he saw and experienced while in prison.”

Niall grew quiet showing his immediate change of heart toward the poet, and only spoke a few seconds later to ask Louis if that truth spoke to him as much as the words he wrote. Louis focused his gaze at Niall.

“Maybe. It was unfair what happened to him but he could have listened to his friends and fled to France in the first place. He might have lived longer.”

Niall went silent again in contemplation, laying his head down next to Louis’. Somehow it felt like they were no longer talking about Oscar Wilde. If Louis hadn’t fled from home, he might not have met Niall.

“Oscar dude had a real tragic story. But we both stayed in Rome... and we’re okay, right? We have a great life here? We’re not running, are we? I mean, we live in a slightly better time than Oscar but people are still going to jail for cruising. I mean just imagine it’s nineteen-eighty-seven, like a hundred years later and there’s still buggery laws all over Europe."

Niall caught Louis' strained look and knew he was aware where he was going with this. Niall supported Louis but he was still sceptical about the prophecy and what it was doing to Louis the past few years.

Niall shut his eyes. Louis saw the deep rise and fall of his chest sighing and let himself drown out the silent thunder in it by going back to his book.

“How about we start and Harry can just join us when he decides to show up?”

Louis knitted his eyebrows, eyes on the crests of the waves.

“I’m a history major,” Niall said. “You’re a well-read, Italian-speaking newspaper editor. Maybe we do a periodical together. A gay journal. One that highlights news and all the failings in the system that needs fixing for gays. One we can all depend on for news and to give hope to those who need it. Come on. We’d be doing something good with our skills.”

Niall stopped then, confused. Not at what he wanted to do- because he wanted to start this with Louis- but what he was. He had been bumping into Hailee Steinfeld a lot lately, buying the occasional spliff. It was hard to explain but his stomach shivered and he got these zinging feelings on the ends of his limbs whenever she laughed and twirled her brows during their dealings. She had to know she was killing him with her lusty, brown eyes. It doesn’t have to mean a thing. He slept with guys before, plus there was that amazing night with Louis once. So that’s gay, right?

“Interesting," Louis said, and Niall jumped. “I like the sound of that.”

°°°

 **1989**

He walked into Jalil’s with a large flat package under the arm of his trench coat, gloves loosely flapping in the other hand. A broad smile opened on his face when his eyes met Louis at their usual window-lit table.

It’s been a year since Niall graduated with his Bachelors in Cultural Anthropology. He had been employed in the _Vatican Museum_ for a few months now helping archaeologists piece together the sources of ancient remains from pre-Christian religious civilizations collected by the museum. Work in Vatican City was pretty elite and Niall was lucky he got the high paying job on the recommendation of Dr De Renzo who had worked with the museum for decades.

“I have big news,” Niall said, taking the opposite seat. He glanced at the table; Jalil had already fixed them Tortellini primavera with cheese, and two bottles of beer. Niall took a swig of his and looked up. He hadn’t seen Louis in weeks. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he scrutinized the man’s new crew-cut.

“And I have something for you. You wanna go first, or...?”

Louis took a sip of beer and waved a hand for Niall to start.

“Okay, so don’t get mad, but I know how much you like renaissance art, and this isn’t exactly renaissance but it’s from around the same time...” he drummed his fingers anxiously on the side of the package.

“You got me a painting?” Louis’ head cocked up.

“I did,” Niall said smiling mildly now.

Louis motioned for him to send it across the table. Niall watched his face light up as he loudly tore the wrapper away.

“It’s called _Hercules' Dog Discovers Purple Dye,”_ Niall informed.

“-By Peter Paul Rubens,” finished Louis, breathless. “Your right, it’s Baroque, but it’s just as exquisite as any Michelangelo. Look at the village in the background. You can just feel the cold sea breeze even with the bronze tones,” he ran his hand over the canvas. “Niall, how much did you pay for this?”

“It’s not the original, duh, but it’s a pricey copy. I discovered it at an art gallery while we were researching the Phoenicians with Dr De Renzo, and it just screamed out to me as a reminder of how we started the journal together,” Niall scooted over. “It's Hercules. And see here- the seashell just like on the beach...The purple dye represents my love for seashells- and, well, paintings are kind of your thing.” 

He caught Louis’ smile and blushed and went on. 

“So, according to legend, Hercules and his canine companion discovered this dye that turned into a major trade for the people of Phoenicia. So basically it’s a gift to remind you of me and what we’re doing with the journal.”

Niall’s work took him to other locations in Italy and environs for weeks at a time and away from his and Louis’ baby, the _Herculean Times_ , a gay men’s bi-monthly journal they started together two years ago. It had gotten the name after Niall ended up telling Louis about his feelings for Hailee. They had been working on a motto and what the journal would represent and Niall had been worried if he was really being true to himself when he used the word gay to describe his own personal mission with the venture. When he had admitted to Louis that he didn’t think he was entirely gay, Louis laughed and told him he had known since day one.

_‘Okay, since you’re into mythology, Hercules was bisexual you know. We can name the journal 'The Hercules' or something like that.’_

_‘Um, that’s my pops,’ grinned Niall, ‘And yeah, I do know a lot about Greco-Roman mythology, but I must say I didn’t know Hercules was bi.’_

_‘Well, apart from the usual renaissance works depicting Hercules in pretty interesting scenes with men, there are stories of him having male and female lovers...’_

And so, their project together became a journal everyone in the LGBT community could relate to.

Louis inhaled softly and laughed. “Ni,” his eyes went wide. “It could be coincidence but apart from it being part of the general LGBT flag, purple just happens to be the central color of the bisexual flag. Representing the merge between pink and blue.”

“Omygod, you’re right. But get this- Purple’s story doesn’t stop there,” continued Niall, taking another gulp of beer, “In the mid nineteenth century, this eighteen-year-old chemist William Perkins was working on a treatment for malaria and he accidentally made a synthetic purple dye, much brighter than the one from the molluscs. Commoners at the time wore neutral, beige tones and only royalty could afford the mollusc dye. But this particular synthetic dye that didn’t have to be made using thousands of snails, labour, and expense to make, gave way to availability and soon the color purple was worn not only by the elite, but by everyday people.”

Louis gave a quick nod, jabbing at his tortellini as Niall continued.

“Sir William Perkin’s discovery made him rich, made the world wear color and inspired other chemists to make synthetic dyes of their own so we in today’s world can look as colorful as the natural world around us. Like the rainbow. We were born into a colorful world unlike centuries past. It’s commonplace to us, but as LGBT members we have a chance to keep those proverbial colors alive. So every time we look at this we can be reminded not to take our colors for granted. And I think that’s what we’re doing with the journal. We’re painting the world, keeping the colors alive.”

Since Niall sparked the idea for the journal, they had been writing about every gay-oriented experience they had been having in Rome, Niall checking out the pubs and social scenes, Louis writing about gay activism, and social matters. They made lots of friends who shared their personal stories and woes and the two were glad to post them in their journal. Now that Niall got a new job, Louis had to know he was still in it, and since the summer holidays were upon them he thought he’d take a few weeks off to work on it with him.

“This is the best gift anyone has ever given me,” he whispered, ogling at the painting. 

“So what did you want to tell me?” Niall finally touched his plate.

"I met this amazingly handsome Harry –well, Harrison Espinoza,” said Louis, eyes bright. “He's from Tuscany and he plays the saxophone with the Philharmonic."

Niall’s eyes moved to a distant spot in the restaurant. For the past five years since the fortune teller gave Louis that name he had been holding fast to something- Louis' bright eyes dimming and his own heart sinking. Louis had been so sure Niall was The One. Right up until he heard the word _‘Harry.’_ Over time Niall said to himself maybe if they spent more time together and Louis got to know him better he’d see he _is_ The One.

 _"Saxophone?”_ he scoffed, picking at his vegetables.

"Isn't that sexy?" Louis ignored his frown, drinking from his bottle. "He invited me to hang out at his home studio with his pals to listen to one of his songs."

Niall gave him a quizzical look. “I thought he’s supposed to play the piano?” Louis had recited his list of ‘Harry’ requirements so many times Niall knew it by heart.

“No piano, but the sax is close enough for me. Besides, I can teach him.”

"So he likes you?" Niall said nearly inaudible, half of his meal already gobbled down.

"Well, it's still too early to tell, but I think we hit it off." Louis said positively. “And I am twenty-three. The age the gypsy said something was bound to happen. I’m hoping this is it. It has to be Harrison. We have so much in common.”

"When am I gonna meet this guy? I wanna see the prediction come true for myself," Niall said, more concerned for the carefree Louis’ safety than the damn prediction.

"Hold up, Niall. We need to get a little more acquainted before we hold the engagement party." Louis replied and Niall didn’t know if it was a funny jab or a serious statement.

Running his eyes around Louis’ side of the table, Niall chided, "You’re not the only one getting laid."

Smiling smugly at the confusion on Louis' face, he explained; “Hailee. She’s a model now. She asked me to go to one of those hip industry parties."

"The weed dealer?" Louis' expression deepened. “I thought you said nothing came out of it?”

The last time Niall had spoken to her was right after he came out to Louis, who was the one to encourage him to ask her out. Only it did not go that way. She asked about his _boyfriend_ before he could, and he choked up. He ended up telling her that Louis was fine and he’d be sure to tell him she said hi. He didn’t tell Louis a damn thing, and since then Hailee had been inviting him- and his boyfriend- to these parties with her and her friend, Taylor. He had been turning them down for one basic reason: he was still hung up on Louis. But now that he found Harry...

“She’s down, just, I’ve been busy with work. But now that I have a couple weeks off...”

“ _hm_ ,” Louis nodded.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. She doesn't do that shit anymore. Anyway,” he changed the subject, “Just be careful with this Espinoza guy, okay? If he turns out to be a slob I’m here for ya.”

“Thanks, Niall,” Louis took the bait and laughed. He looked at the painting again. “If it turns out he’s not my Harry, and the only guy I’ll ever be close to is a gibbering blond who looks out for me, then so be it. I'm good with that."

\--

Louis rapped his knuckles on the oak door of Harrison Espinoza’s place, clasping down his excitement at having the opportunity to listen to his new song. To Louis, destiny was falling into place seamlessly.

Until he opened the door- _and saw Harrison there in his shorts with a girl in a pair of panties on his rumpled couch._

And Louis' heart sank to his belly.

"I'm sorry. I- I should have called first. I thought you- I'm gonna," Louis stammered, backing out the door.

Espinoza nodded distractedly as if to say “Yeah, yeah- what do you want?”

Louis shook his head and mumbled that it was not important, turned and ran out.

\--

“You didn’t say you had company on the phone,” said Louis, frozen on the threshold of his and Niall’s apartment. He had called his friend as soon as he left Espinoza’s place, and gave him the abridged version of events, and had now arrived ten minutes later with the long version, not knowing he was going to walk in on yet another scandalous moment.

Niall’s pants were knees-down, his back turned to Louis as he thrusted mercilessly into the space between a pair of dandy legs while the owner propped herself up against the wall by the kitchen. On hearing Louis’ outburst, he stopped and dragged his clothes back on, shouting “Fuck!” and “What the fuck, Louis!?”

The girl hopped back into her panties and flipped down her fluffy short dress, throwing an embarrassed look at Niall, whose belt-buckle was still hanging down over his fly.

Louis stomped in and balled himself up on the couch away from them, giving way to sobbing. 

Now clothed, Niall rushed over and reached out to touch his cheek. 

Louis pulled away, ignoring him.

Hailee leaned her upper body to Niall tentatively. "What's wrong? Should I call a doctor?”

"A mental doctor, yes. He thinks it’s the end of the world just because some guy he thought was _The One_ turned out to be Het. Even I could have told you Harrison and Harry aren’t the same thing!" Niall flung his arms out scoldingly at Louis.

Louis glared at him through wet, confused eyes. “You said you’d be here for me if it went south! You were so supportive about this. And I come in here and see you _shagging someone_?”

Hailee, whose face was already flushed with embarrassment, suddenly looked guilty. “Seems like you two need to talk this out,” she said at the same time Niall said to Louis- _“Yeah because I told you, you don’t find your soulmate by consulting a damn fortune teller!”_

Hailee sank back and made a gesture to leave.

"No, stay. Help me talk some sense into him. He's in love with an imaginary _soulmate_.”

Louis gave a betrayed, shot look at Niall’s words, and Hailee let out a small but scandalous laugh.

Louis’ glare deepened and Niall abandoned his tirade on Louis to turn to her. "Don't laugh at him."

"Relax, I wasn't laughing _at_ him," she fiddled with his collar patronizingly.

Calming down, Niall dropped back down on the couch and half-turned to Louis. “Maybe we interpreted the gypsy wrong. Maybe Harry’s the one who will be twenty-three when you finally meet him.”

“Wait,” Hailee said, interest growing. “Are we talking about the woman on the bridge?”

Niall and Louis both nodded.

Hailee gasped. “That’s Madam Ruhina. She is the real deal.”

Louis watched skeptically as the girl went off about how she was part Romani on her mother’s side and how she knew the woman from her village on the outskirts of Rome.

She squeezed in next to them. “If she gave you a reading, it’s going to happen. You’ll get your soulmate, it’s only a matter of time.”

\--

Hailee showed up at the house once a week, twice a week, until the bathroom floor turned into her personal closet. Every time Louis went in to take a piss he'd trip on lace bras and empty tampon boxes. It was also hard to ignore the specks of white dust with long straw-tracks through them in foil on the sink counter which proved that she really didn't do that other shit anymore, but Niall was finally steady with someone and Louis ignored every crawling vein in his body to be happy for him.

They fucked like rabbits, breaking things in the kitchen- Now _that_ Louis complained about- so they relocated to Niall's room upstairs, where they carried on like Thor's hammer. Louis would just lie down for bed and the ceiling would shake out loose concrete in his eyes, the old place. He was certain the bed and all the flooring below it would come down on his head. Frequent screams of "Ride me, Baby," from a blissful sounding Niall let Louis know Hailee liked being on top, and Louis would stuff his pillow over his ear.

They- the sessions of sex- were not all like that. One night Louis had gone up the stairs to use the bathroom and heard blissful whispers coming from Niall’s room. But instead of walking away like he'd normally do, Louis stayed and listened as the couple inside came to a slow, quiet climax. It wasn't disgusting, but rather the noises were sensual and grasping. Hand gently pressed on the door as the couple came down, Louis had grown jealous and sad. When will he ever share that kind of intimacy with his Harry? Was it too much to ask? With a low head, he had continued off to bed alone.

But overall Hailee was okay. She had dreams to make it big as a model one day. She helped Louis with ideas for stories from the gay gypsy men in her community. Being part Romani, she was into gypsy culture and legends, carrying around books on palm reading and other mysticism. Louis could see why Niall was into her, she was ambitious and even talked about how she and Taylor wanted to be designers. She often showed Louis sketches Taylor drew of traditional gypsy clothing. The modelling industry had lots of opportunities for further career but most caved under the pressure to look a certain way, often turning to drugs offered them by peers. Louis figured that’s where she picked up coke, and hoped with her skills and personality she didn’t succumb or worse- suck Niall into it.

She was also a good cook and fun to hang out with and watch football. It was on one such October evening of beer and pasta in front of the TV, heart building back into a ‘feel good’ state, that Louis expressed his desire to keep waiting for the elusive Harry.

“I still have two months until I am not twenty-three anymore,” he said, now a healthier fraction of his original zeal since the Harry Espinoza incident. That had happened two months ago and Louis knew he had to get over it. “I’m not giving up yet.”

Taking a swig of her bottle, Hailee flashed a glimpse at Niall next to her on the futon, and saw the man’s silent aggravation. She then hopped over to Louis and hugged his frame.

“That’s the spirit, Louis. You will find your Harry one day.” She was genuine, resting her head motherly on his shoulder as they watched the TV. “Madam Ruhina’s readings don’t lie.”

Seeing that she was open and empathetic toward his plight, Louis hugged her back. This Hailee’s good for Niall after all.

°°°

Hailee and Niall broke up a few weeks after that night over her drug habits. The neighbours had threatened to call the cops about her pulling a switch blade on them on her way in for simply staring at her. Louis did not blame them. She was getting jittery, jumpy, lately. Not wanting the landlord to catch wind of the complaints, Louis urged Niall to talk to her. What was supposed to be a conversation turned into one piping argument and she was gone.

Louis kept an eye on Niall. He had dated Hailee for four wild months and now the only way he was getting her out of his head was to immerse himself in work at the museum while helping Louis write articles for the journal, which was proving hard because of the Vatican’s stance on homosexuality. Niall felt caught between the two and was thinking of quitting to devote himself full time to his and Louis’ baby, which was growing into a staple for their community.

Louis had just landed the editor-in-chief position of Rome’s local Newspaper after the previous guy died of old age. He declared to Niall he didn’t want to go out like that, so he worked on their journal every night, hoping to expand it one day. That day was not so far in foresight as the journal’s subscribers were growing and there was demand for more stories. Some commenters even suggested they turn it into a Digest. But that meant more work and diversity which Louis was already thinking up a plan for but nothing in print yet.

So yeah, they were doing fine without crazy Hailee.

That is until the eve of Louis' twenty-fourth birthday when Niall met him for dinner at Jalil's and blurted out that Hailee called his work landline begging for a meeting with him on the Ponte Sant’Angelo.

“Why do I have to go?” Louis complained (in Italian) when Niall asked him to tag along. He was busy holding on to a fistful of hope walking around the piazza hoping to bump into _Harry_. He had this crazy idea the man would be out for a midnight stroll too and they’d talk about what they’ve been doing all this time and how delighted they were to finally be together.

Louis sighed and put down at his paperwork. “I have my own problems right now. I have all this to do, plus I only have a few hours left for Harry to magically stumble into my lap.” Louis was on the brink of tears. “I’m hoping he walks in that door any minute now.”

Niall reached out a hand and covered Louis’ smaller one on the table. “Remember when you said you’d be content to be my friend if you never got to meet Harry? I’m holding you to that. I need you right now.”

Louis felt a burn at the back of his throat followed by tear drops, the realization that he may never meet his soulmate kicking in. He found himself squeezing back, his tears still allowing him to see the concern and love in his friend’s eyes, but mixed with something else. Something he thought was long gone. He didn’t even know the man still felt that way. It baffled him, but it was comforting.

\--

Christmas Eve arrived. A fresh-faced Niall, dressed in plaid trousers and a sweatshirt, bounced into Louis’ room.

“You can’t be that stoked about seeing Hailee today?” said Louis, stretching and yawning.

“Forget Hailee for a sec. I have a surprise for you.” Niall reached and pulled him out the bed. He then led him out to the side of the house, past the herb garden to the old rusty-roofed garage where they kept Niall’s car.

“Close your eyes,” the blonde said, leading him over the dark threshold. Louis did as he was told. Niall let out a conspiratorial laugh and Louis folded his arms impatiently and opened one eye briefly.

“Okay, okay- open them.”

Louis let his eyes flutter open. There was a sheet and a couple pairs of jeans on the clothing line that remained after Louis did the laundry, and he began taking them down, but as his sight grew clearer, a heart stopping gasp left his throat. His hands coming on his head, he let his jaw drop. The shiniest dark motorcycle sat welcoming him to its new modern world next to Niall’s old car.

“Niall,” he almost cried. One stunned gaze at the man, and the 'almost' became reality.

Niall brandished the key. “Happy birthday, Lou. I’ve been saving up for this awhile. Just to see that look on your face.”

Louis took the keys and rubbed it as if disbelieving it was real. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You bought me a car from your life’s savings when you could have ditched me and gone solo for one,” Niall reminisced. “You’re the reason I can do this in the first place. I never forgot that.”

“Yeah, but this...” 

“-This is how you enjoy your birthday and get around the city from now on. Besides, I’m quitting my job soon, so take the pamper while you can.”

Louis grabbed him into a hearty hug, the clothes between them. He had trouble explaining it to himself, but for some reason he was glad Harry did not show up.

They pulled away and it happened by pure accident. In a seamless series of actions, their faces ended up brushing and their heads drawn stopping at the tips of their noses and... It was Louis who made the first move, he was sure, but Niall did not hesitate to close it up and lock down the kiss in a tight rush of movement.

“Let’s stay. We don’t have to go see her,” Louis whispered into his lips, heat billowing to his lower region.

“We’ll go. We’ll see what she wants,” Niall pulled away reluctantly, hands caressing Louis’ palm. “Tell her we’re together and be done with it.”

Louis rested his head on Niall’s heart. Niall who bought him gifts and who never left him alone in a big city. Niall who still loved him even after he rejected him. With the soft _thump_ of the blonde’s heartbeat vibrating in his ear on his birthday, the day after Harry was expected to show up and didn’t, Louis knew he’d be okay. 

\--

At noon, right on schedule, the two men huddled to the spot next to the street food vendor Hailee said she’d meet them by. Louis had driven with Niall on the back of the motorcycle. Both glad to have a cool reason to wear their old leather jackets, they parked it and bought a couple of _panini con lampredotto_ for lunch.

"I'm glad you came too, Louis," a voice chirped behind them, and both men jumped. An unsure grin on her face, Hailee stared at a merged-browed Niall, "I missed both of you."

She offered Louis a smile. He returned a curt nod. Though a little heavier than the last time he saw her, the pretty woman looked neat enough. Although, she seemed slightly agitated _, high maybe,_ Louis thought.

“What are we having?” she inhaled Niall’s sandwich.

Niall replied. “Cow stomach. My favorite.”

“Holy crap.” Hailee backed away, nauseated.

“Aren’t you Italian?” Louis asked, rolling his eyes.

“So I was told,” she clipped back, looking at the rest of the menu painted on the vendor cart. “I’ll have the _Pizza al taglio.”_

Needing to get this reunion over with, Louis paid for her lunch and they all took a walk eating the wrapped meals. They stopped and leaned over the barricade to finish the food and Louis kept close to Niall who was a bit clingy with fright.

Hailee's hand touched Louis' left shoulder and he shifted so she could squeeze in to take in the view of the Tiber river. Setting her sandwich down, she placed her other hand on Niall's right shoulder.

She took a deep breath and gestured her chin to Louis. "I know this isn’t the birthday wish you wanted, Louis, but- You're going to be an uncle."

Louis recoiled. She then turned and moved in on a befuddled Niall. "Niall, you are going to be a father. I'm pregnant."

Niall's breath caught up in his lungs and he flashed a panicked look at Louis, who was equally stomped.

"I'm gonna keep it," Hailee said in a manner that suggested to Louis that she had been answering that way to people for a while now. Pregnant models weren’t exactly a common phrase. She held her bump defensively like she expected opposition.

Louis nudged Niall. A _'say something, Stupid'_ nudge. Not so as to tell her about them (him and Louis) but to say something along the lines of ‘this is great’ or ‘I’m glad you’re keeping it’. Because he saw in the air between the girl and Niall, the waiting cloud of happiness. He was just about ready for it to burst and get it over with.

Niall didn't bother trying to force out words. He reached out and hugged her, her hair blowing in Louis’ direction, slapping him in the face as he stood close. Too close, as this scene had him feeling like a third wheel. But big frosty eyes stared deep into his from behind the hair, and Louis saw the panic, the inner struggle to know what actions to take next.

Louis gave an assuring nod, a burning behind his sockets. The blue eyes, lighter than his, lingered, hoping for some change or reconsideration. When none came they sank below his eye-lids in what Louis only saw as sadness.

As they separated, the couple started yapping about what color crib to buy and if it could fit in Niall's room, and if he could run with her to get her stuff from her parents' house because she could not bear another day there much less Christmas day… and yeah, just like that, Hailee was back.

Niall flashed a quick 'I’ll-see-you-later' and Louis an 'it's-ok', and the couple trotted away like two excited puppies chasing butterflies, leaving Louis alone on the bridge.

He was going to be an uncle. A little _baby Niall-and-Hailee. NiallandHailee._

He painted on a smile to be getting a niece or a nephew soon. And as Niall and Hailee grew tiny walking away to their new life he began to sing. “ _And now I'm all alone again nowhere to go, no one to turn to_.” It was a solo from a musical he and Niall had gone to see the first year as friends.

He turned his body around to the small crowd in front of Madam Ruhina’s booth. “ _I did not want your money, sir, I came out here 'cause I was told to,”_ he sang, regretful visions of yesterday surrounding him.

 _‘On my own, pretending he's beside me...’_ Louis sang with conjured zeal, reminding himself and embracing the possibility a twenty-three-year-old Harry might still walk up to him soon.

He skipped and began jogging over to a bench to wait... _'And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me.'_

He sighed as he sat, head down with wise doubt now... _'And I know it's only in my mind that I'm talking to myself and not to him...’_

Enthusiasm burst in again as he crossed his leg theatrically… _'Still I say there's a way for us.'_ \- An earring vendor nearby held out his array for Louis to buy whatever sweetheart had him singing.

 _'Without him the world around me changes…'_ Louis took out his wallet to maybe buy Niall a pair to give Hailee as a gift.

He chose a pretty little shiny one and pocketed it just as a crazy-looking, toothless man came and sat next to him. The man stared at him like he was a pot of paella, and he sprung up and continued walking along the bridge... _'The streets are full of strangers.'_

He leaned out over the barricade and looked down into the Tiber. _'I love him,'_ he sang in a sweet quiet tone, _‘But every day I'm learning. All my life I've only been pretending. I love him.'_

A tear fell from his eyes and down into the water as he gazed at the empty spot beside his own reflection. Maybe one day soon Harry will appear. _'I love him... I love him, but only on my own...'_

°°°

**1990**

Harry had not graced Louis with his presence, but six months later he had a little niece in the apartment. Funny, there had been a temporary blackout and he was the only one at home with Hailee when her water broke. He helped deliver the baby under the circumstances and fell in love with the little girl on the spot. Baby Crystal took up all three adults’ time and love over the next few months since she arrived. Louis had offered to leave the apartment to give them space but Niall kept shutting it down, saying the journal would suffer for the distance. It was already suffering since Niall had to keep his job now that he was a father, which meant he had to keep his name off the _Herculean Times_ , even the pieces he wrote for it.

And Louis had not forgotten about Harry. He figured Niall had been right about him not being the twenty-three-year-old one when they would finally meet, so he decided to actively search for candidates closest to his age to possibly date. Niall bet Louis that he couldn’t pull it off, saying _"It's a common name. That fortune teller probably just said the first name that popped in her head,"_ and Louis threw it in the air that as a newspaper editor and journalist, he wouldn’t believe how much information one had in their grasp, especially with growing computer archives in the early nineties. But even with the resources the groundwork proved hard. There were only a handful of twenty-something-year-old Harry’s in Rome, much less gay ones, which might sound great since there was little searching to do for only one soulmate, but out of the five Harrys, only one was gay.

And to make matters worse he was thirty, not the twenty-three Louis was looking for. Hailee was the one to still encourage the pursuit of the man, and even though Louis had managed to ‘casually bump into him’ and ask him out, the date did not go as expected.

Tonight Louis had a throbbing knot in his neck. He had spent the last three hours at a crowded restaurant listening to the know-it-all Harry ramble on about his Rottweiler and a boxing bag he installed. Louis didn’t mind dogs or boxing but the guy didn’t let him get a word in the whole conversation. Louis had begun to think the guy was stuck up, so he bailed out of there.

Dropping his keys on the counter, and shutting the door, from the cold October wind, he saw a huddled silhouette on the sofa, the TV screen flashing lights on him.

“You’re up late? Crystal giving trouble to sleep?” Louis was usually the one to make her fall asleep, reading her fairytales she didn’t understand yet. She’d gurgle and gulp and go off his excitement for the book until her soft little eyes became heavy-lidded and she crashed. Hailee said it’s because she was bored but Louis would tell her to wait and see she’ll beg him to read once she grows old enough to talk.

Niall grunted, clicking listlessly through the channels.

Louis took that as a yes and went on. “I had the worst date. And the worst neck pain.”

His hand reached the light switch and he heard a sniffle. 

"Niall?" he flicked the switch up and shut the door.

"I'll get the oil," Niall said on seeing Louis' other hand drop from his neck. Louis marvelled at how the man would sense exactly what he needed. They were so in tune Louis had grown to accept their bond as part of life.

Niall plodded back out with the bottle and Louis, on the couch now, bore into his eyes to search for the problem. Niall hung his head low and gestured for Louis to turn around for him to access his lumpy shoulder.

Louis turned but as soon as he felt Niall’s hand land on him he swung back around. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Did you and Hay have an argument?”

Niall’s head dropped. Louis saw the lines in his forehead trembling fighting to be smooth again. Louis put three fingers to lift his chin and was met with his deep stare.

"She got arrested today. Police cracked down on a house and took her and eight other people. There’s no bail and her brother and I have to show up in court to testify on her behalf. Louis, I have a kid to think about, I can't be cleaning up her messes every- single- time."

Louis was so done with Hailee's antics. He had bad drunk days and he didn't want to judge her drug addiction but Niall was right; she had a kid, just three months old now. And if that cute little face caused protective feelings in Louis then as Crystal's own mother, Hailee should have known better.

"What can I do to help?" he asked, his disastrous date now eons out of his mind.

Niall smiled and gripped both Louis' shoulders. "You can let me give you a massage and watch a game."

Pursing his lips, Louis shuffled closer. He didn’t want to talk about his date and the realisation that he may never meet the perfect Harry or become romantically and emotionally involved with anyone else for that matter. Not like he had with Niall. He didn’t want to talk about how he was stupid to reject him and stay in Rome in the first place.

But he was thinking about it. And as he did with his eyes closed, they reopened almost immediately. His eyes wide like golf balls, he held his breath. Shivers shimmied down his spine and through his arms- something he hadn’t felt in a while. Not because Niall was massaging his shoulders. But because he could have sworn he felt the faint brush of the crook between his neck and shoulder, ever so lightly, that was not Niall’s fingers, which were pressing the sore lumps. Inwardly deliberating whether to exhale or not, he felt it again, and this time he was sure it was meticulous, purposed. Louis let out a sharp, suffocated breath.

“Niall,” he inclined his head to face the man. His cheek touched what he sensed to be his nose and mouth and Niall nuzzled into it, his hitched breath blowing shivering warmth on him.

Louis turned and moved forward to escape in the hopes of talking out what just happened from a safe distance but it was still happening. Because Niall wouldn’t let him go.

“Please,” Niall said into his ear, shifting forward and bringing him back to settle into his chest. He ran the tip of his lips over Louis’ neck again, and Louis inhaled sharply.

“Please,” Niall said again with a sound so low it could not even be classified as a whisper, though Louis could still hear the desperate break in the waves of the breath blowing on his skin.

That feeling of empathy rose again and Louis could feel his inner irks. His frustration, his lust. He found it hard to distinguish which feelings and emotions were his and which were Niall’s because he was irked and frustrated before but now he was lusting too.

“Please, Louis, just tonight. Please,” said Niall, a few decibels louder like a cold, hungry kitten.

It was a giant tug-o-war in his head, one side urging him to open the space between his neck wide and the other screaming to run away. Cursing the thing that was screaming at him to pull away, he swerved around to perch close enough to grab a powered kiss, holding Niall’s face steady with his knees pinned to the sides of Niall’s waist. Gasping into his nostrils, Niall pulled him closer to bring his knees into a more comfortable position, latching Louis’ waist with his forearms.

“Tell me how your date was,” Niall asked, sensing an inch of hesitance.

Louis dropped his head, his silent reply clear.

Niall sighed knowingly. “Let me love you, Louis. Let me be the one to give you everything you need.”

He kissed Louis soft and warm and Louis kissed him back hard. He had not had sex with anyone since Niall, and as he peeled off his clothes and leaned back lengthways to let Niall climb between him, it all came flooding back. The places on his body where Niall’s hands had once been, leaping for joy at the familiar touch.

°°°

**Oct 1990- Feb1991**

The next few months after Hailee’s arrest Louis and Niall grew closer. It was clear to Louis that Harry was no longer a prospect, and he redirected all his energy toward Niall and Crystal. He helped care for Crystal, and even went with Niall to the hearing; thirty weeks of rehab and then community service was the judge's decision. Lucky for her, she narrowly evaded ten years in prison because of Niall’s testimony.

Running the journal was going dandy. They never starved for stories to post. One day Niall came home with an interesting one.

“Leonne just called with some news for the journal. Apparently _OutRage!_ had a kiss-in at Piccadilly Circus to protest against arresting guys for kissing in public and one of the members climbed all the way up the Anteros statue and kissed it.” Leonne was a subscriber from England who became a close friend after he wrote letters of appreciation to the journal. He was in his fifties, migrated from Italy and ordered copies in his native language and in English for his gay friends.

Louis, who had looked up from his typewriter, gasped.

“Yep, my thoughts exactly. That’s definitely going in the journals.”

“Why didn’t he just kiss some guy on the ground?”

Niall rubbed his chin. “I think why he kissed the statue, and mainly why they chose that particular place, is because it has a queer story associated with it. Interestingly an altar to Anteros was put up in ancient Athens to commemorate a metic, Timagoras who was in love with a man named Meles. In Greek mythology, Anteros is the god of selfless love; a form of Eros who is the protector of homosexual love. Upon hearing Timagoras' declaration of love for him, Meles, who did not return his love, mockingly ordered him to throw himself down from the top of a giant rock. Timagoras, wanting to show his selfless love, did as he was told. Seeing Timagoras dead, a guilt-ridden Meles threw himself down from the same rock. The altar was built to honor Anteros who was also the avenger of unrequited love. We can write all about it in the journal.”

“Seriously, you really think people are gonna wanna hear about Greek mythology at a time like this?”

“This story about Timagoras actually happened!” Niall protested.

A few hours later after Louis finished the first draft of the article, Louis asked, “You really believe someone would kill themselves to prove how much they loved someone?”

Niall looked at Louis, deep in the eyes, and gave a hum of confirmation. Louis gulped, running his hand on Niall’s cheeks.

“I’d never ask you to do something like that.”

“You don’t know the depths I’d go for you, Lou.” Niall pulled him on top of his lap.

Those words, though scary, caused a fire to strike in Louis and they had one of their hottest nights yet.

As the days went by, Louis didn’t know how they were managing the _Herculean Times_ with Crystal teething and their day jobs, but they were doing it. They were running a successful gay journal leaflet with ten thousand bi-monthly copies.

The boy’s love life didn’t suffer either, Louis and Niall had shared the first intimate moment since their first time years ago and their relationship grew stronger.

One day while cleaning out the apartment Louis came across a book under Niall’s bed. Yanking it out to dust it off, he read the title: _Gypsy Mysticism and the Afterlife._

It was as thick as a directory and it had sparked his interest so that the next few weeks he had been absorbed in its pages. Soon he reached the chapter on Soulmates. One day after dinner when the baby was asleep he decided to talk to Niall about what he read.

“Soulmates are drawn together to help each other with spiritual growth and to fulfil life lessons we agree on in the spirit realm before we were born. But it says here in addition to soulmates, each of us has someone called a twin soul. Just before you meet your twin soul you get excited for no reason, you’re drawn to a certain place...” Louis read a few paragraphs to explain.

Vertical lines gathered above Niall’s nose. “I don’t get it. What is the difference between that and a soulmate?”

“Your twin soul is someone who was forged from the same fire as you, unlike your soulmate whose main purpose is to be there for you when you need someone. Soulmates are more common, no matter how many times we’re reincarnated our soulmates come back as well. But not everyone meets their twin soul in each lifetime,” Louis elaborated, shrugging. “It’s a big deal when it happens. You’re basically two halves of the same soul so you pretty much complete each other. According to this; ‘ _a soulmate is something you need, and a twin soul is something you are.’_ ”

“Greek mythology has something similar,” Niall said after some thought. “Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

Louis laughed. “It says here the bond is stronger than a soulmate, although a person can choose to be with their soulmate. Do you think I could be your twin soul?”

“How do you reckon?”

“Well...the fortune teller didn’t name you as my soulmate, and I think if we’re being honest you’re the only one I’ve ever had a deep connection with. Maybe this Harry guy really is my soulmate and you’re my twin soul. Maybe now that I have you I don’t need Harry.”

Niall wasn’t into that stuff, whatever interest he showed in mysticism was more from a biblical perspective, but if Louis was out here implying that he was the one for him, even bigger than a soulmate, then Niall was down for that.

°°°

**Feb 1991**

Four months into their new life, there was a knock on the door. Louis had been rocking Crystal's crib when Niall shouted that he'd answer it. Louis saw through the crease in the nursery door Niall drying off his hands and opening the front door and freezing on the spot.

Sneaking behind him, Louis peeked over his shoulder to see Hailee all fresh from rehab. She peeled off her beanie, tears falling down her pale cheeks.

Niall knew Louis was right behind him. There was no way he didn't feel his breath on his shoulder, but the man did not turn around, did not look to him for direction. No _'what should I do?'_ look. Niall's entire demeanor eased as he stared at Hailee, as though Louis was not even there.

Niall stepped outside and Louis blanched. He watched as he descended the stairs and into her arms.

He turned his head to the door where the baby slept inside. The past few months felt like this was his life, his Niall and his baby. But she was Hailee’s baby. But was Niall hers too? What made Niall run into her arms erasing months of loving caresses and domestication with Louis? He had read in the book that sometimes a person can choose to be with a soulmate instead of their twin soul for whatever reason. It was everything but killing him inside to think of the reasons Niall would not choose him. His twin soul.

As he thought these things, Hailee’s eyes caught his and she held the gaze. It was a familiar ‘Hey Louis,’ gaze but she must’ve seen the disdain in his eyes because the gaze quickly turned to one of disrelish, and he could see the knowledge of their _living situation_ creep up on her.

Crystal was now seven months old. She deserved a mother who was there for her. Now that Hailee was back, Louis knew he had to support that. But Niall was his...wasn’t he?

°°°

**1992**

**Niall pov-**

He crept into the tenement, peering around wide-mouthed at the brown slush and sharpie markings on the dingy-painted walls. There was a punching stench. Lavatory? Promiscuity? Both?

It had been a year and two months since the last time he saw him, the day after Hailee came out of rehab. He could still hear the last conversation they had singing in his ear, still see the ambivalent stare:

_“Go see the fortune-teller and ask her about Hailee. I saw the way you looked at her last night. I think she could be your soulmate.”_

_“Louis, I slept in your room last night. Hailee’s not a threat to us. She has a problem and she just wants to get better for our daughter.”_

_'That’s right. You have a daughter together. Soulmate connections can be strong even if you have a twin soul. If she’s not that to you then I’ll know I was imagining it, and you can let go of her.'_

_'You are imagining it! You know; this is exactly what I was expecting. You just can’t let go! For once we were working, and you had to go bringing up the gypsy. I want to be with you- soulmate or soul half or not. Can’t you trust in us for once?'_

_'Just go ask her. One reading and see what she says...You have a weakness for her. I need to know if she’s your soulmate, Niall.'_

_'No. I’m done with gypsies and prophesies. You need to make up your mind whether you can live with that or not.'_

It was luck that brought him to Venice. A week ago he bought a newspaper and saw Louis’ name in the bottom right corner of an article on Venice nightclubs. Louis never used to go to those, and from the personal way he wrote it Niall was just as worried as he was relieved to finally catch wind of him. It took a phone call, a couple of enquiries and a boat trip to get here. He hoped he was in the right place this time.

The soles of his feet like spongy stone, he knocked on the bleached out door.

A cling here. A pang there. And shuffling about inside, his heart raced at the noise.

The doorknob turned open. A gap of relief and surprise at same time, Niall said his name, though it was confusing to place the man in front of him with it.

The door shoved to close but Niall reached for it in time. The face was behind the door now, unable to push any further, and holding his firm on it, but Niall had already seen him. The crinkly forest of dark lank hair around his mouth and up the side of his face. His deep, Amalfi blue eyes peering from under a head full of matted hair twisted in some areas, loose in others. The sight of it was so overwhelming Niall grew weak and let go of the door. It slammed shut.

“I am going to be outside here until you’re ready to talk.”

The door opened and he heard footsteps move away from it.

Pushing it open, Niall felt the tears run. Not just his tears, but the tears he couldn’t see in the eyes of the man whose back was now turned to him.

“Do you know how hard it was to find you?” he said, stepping in and closing the door, but now that he was here he understood that Louis didn’t want to be found.

Niall scanned the room; Empty six-pack Stella Artois on the floor, crumpled napkins and snack wrappings everywhere. There was a fusty, unventilated smell, and the walls in here were just as dingy as the outer building. Just the kind of place for junkies or prostitutes. But what sent a sharp, gruesome pain up his spine was a used condom thrown at the foot of the single chair Louis now stood behind. It was almost concealed underneath like it was chucked by a foot and was so dry and flat it must have been there for weeks.

“Are you seeing someone?” Niall said in a grating, unsteady voice, completely afraid of the answer. Louis turned around then, and Niall’s eyes riveted to his face. He was glad to look away from the floor, to not have to see the object of his loathe on the floor between them.

Louis, not seeming to notice the reason for Niall’s nauseated features, looked away, focusing on a spot on the wall. Niall could smell the shame. See the discomfiture fill the darkness of his pupils. It stung like a lemon on a fresh wound, but Niall’s wounds were too deep and patchy to make him angry now. Louis was twenty-six going on twenty-seven now. A grown man. He can sleep with whoever he wants.

“Come home,” he said bluntly, braving the lacerating pain in his chest.

“What about Hailee?” the man said into the stuffy air, reminding Niall of what- or _who_ \- was truly between them.

“She’s downstairs in the car with Crystal. I was coming to Venice alone but she insisted Crystal was the key to getting you back home.” 

Niall saw, even in the fog of hair, something brewing in his eyes when he mentioned Hailee. Realisation maybe that he and Hailee grew close again after he left.

The corners of Louis’ mouth curled downward. "Why do you need me to go back with you? You have Hailee and Crystal."

"I had you!” shouted Niall at him, emblazoned eyes boring into him what he made him do. Niall did grow closer to Hailee after Louis ran away, and part of him hated him all this time for abandoning him but here now, seeing him again... all Niall wanted to do was grab him and hold him until the moon turned black. 

“You left me,” he said again, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t worth it to let those kinds of feelings back in again. Trying to temper the throbbing urge to run over to him and make him promise never to leave him again.

Louis’ shoulders went up surly. “I asked you to go see Madam Ruhina for days and you refused. But the minute I left you chose her.” 

Niall’s eyes brimmed. “You didn’t give me a choice. What was I supposed to do?”

Louis didn’t say anything further. He moved to the kitchen flinging open a black, oversized garbage bag and began sweeping everything off the counters and into it. Niall watched as he skulked around the apartment, grabbing up all the rubbish.

“Crystal’s not gonna recognise me,” Louis said after a while in a world-weary voice, when some sort of dried up puree couldn’t scrape off the coffee table with the stale half-eaten bread it was pasted on. “You shouldn’t have brought her here.” He gestured to the brown semi-dried gunk.

“She needs you. I need you. How can you tell yourself I’d be okay without you?” implored Niall, rushing over. He took his hands, forcing him to drop the bag. “You don’t abandon the people who care about you.” His voice was beseeching, desperate.

He continued; “We’re supposed to do great things together, remember? We had dreams to make the world better. I haven’t given up on that.”

Niall noted the flash of a change in decision on Louis’ face even when He left because he was scared and unsure about how his presence- how his feelings- would affect Niall’s new life. Louis had a super hero soul that had always made Niall giggle; the way he cared about everyone and everything, even the feelings of some guy he may never meet.

From under his bush of eyebrows, Louis’ eyes were still the same as the last time Niall saw them- compassionate, loving, as they showed contemplation now. Niall missed them so much.

“Color the world,” Niall heard him say, low and thoughtful. Niall saw a thin smile in the sea of dark bush and rushed into his arms.

“Yes,” Niall whispered into his ear through fresh tears. “Color the world.”

Louis clasped on to him, crying. Niall nuzzled into the side of his head. “That’s my boy.”

Louis still smelt the same. Though he didn’t want to think about how he got to a place where his hair is this matted. “I think there is something living in your hair,” he joked.

They both laughed.

\--

Twenty minutes later Hailee came up with the baby, and to everyone’s surprise Crystal recognised Louis right away. She giggled and yelped and kicked up a frenzy. And when Louis held her she took his long, confuffled strands in her hand and ogled them, her mouth in the amazed shape of an o.

Hailee clipped his hair. She did so with a quiet, careful softness even in the noise of Crystal’s yelping as Niall changed her pampers on Louis’ Venetian single bed. Louis wanted to say it was out of pity, I mean he could have gone to a barber, but he knew it was because deep down she understood what it was like to be helpless and destitute, depressed, and she was his friend too after all even with their silent competitive tension. She left the length somewhere at the bottom of his neck and he could see in the mirror Niall trying not to get caught glancing at said neck. And a bitter rose up in Louis’ core as he caught Niall looking away again and shutting his eyes briefly. Why would Niall do this to him? Why would he put him in this position to be the weak prodigal one?

“Yes, Uncle Louis, you missed my birthday,” Hailee cooed in a baby voice quoting words on behalf of Crystal. “I came to get you and make sure you don’t miss my second birthday coming up.”

Louis blinked and looked at Crystal through the mirror again. That was July, three months away, but he got her point- Tiny teeth and delicate blonde hair long enough to be grabbed up in the two teeny clips in it now, the baby was barely recognisable beyond her version of Niall’s blue eyes. He couldn’t believe he missed that much. He caught Niall smiling at him just when the baby mumbled nonsense words at him and Hailee, and calmness took over his entire being. Niall was always so patient and he didn’t have to look for him all year and play into his inane need to be self-righteous. And even though Niall was with Hailee now, Louis was beginning to feel relieved his best friend didn’t give up on him.

°°°

"So?" Hailee leaned to the side, one hand on her hip and the other with a frosting spatula. She had just made breakfast and was now attempting to make a cake for Crystal on her second birthday.

Louis eyebrows moved about as he read, impressed with her article on Romani women’s cultural dress which she wrote to submit to a magazine. Louis was back in Rome, but got his own place this time. Too awkward living with what he had little doubt was his twin soul and _his_ soulmate. He only came over for meals and to help write for the _Herculean Times_ which Hailee and her brother had been helping Niall run since his departure. She was clean now, she had been telling anyone who would listen, including the neighbours, who she cooked macaroni pies for now instead of threatening their lives. She had taken up writing again about her culture to help distract her from slipping back and Louis was glad to help her edit her articles.

“Thanks. So, how are those seminars with Griffin going? I’ve been meaning to join you but Crystal’s been picky these days. Gotta stay home with her.”

"I’m heading to one now, actually," Louis said pointedly, standing to Crystal up. "I hope to gain enough knowledge to see where I wanna go in terms of getting this off the ground."

A lot had changed after he left. He didn’t have his old editing job anymore so he had begun to devote copious amounts of time making bigger plans for the journal. Niall told him Leonne had died from AIDS a few months back and the news made Louis all the more aware of how fleeting life was. Louis had goals he needed to accomplish.

He short-tossed the baby in the air as she filled the room with her musical giggles.

Hailee laughed. “I’m trying to picture you hopping off a motorcycle and bouncing in the seminar in your suit.” She glanced at Louis proudly.

"Don’t worry, Griffin and I will be taking notes to share with you. Maybe I’ll get the business running and you can launch that clothing boutique you and Taylor keep talking about," Louis promised.

"Well, one of you better start something, get rich one day and take care of the rest of us - ain't that right, Birthday Princess?" Niall quipped to his daughter, taking her from Louis and putting her down in her chair. He had just walked out the bedroom ready for work. He had taken up more work at the Vatican to make up for Hailee’s current unemployment and Louis’ mid-twenties crisis and had zero time for the journal these days.

"Yes, you are the cutest baby ever,” Louis cooed. “I can't wait till you're old enough to eat a whole ice-cream cone!"

Glad to hear about something more exciting than the mashed banana in her bowl, Crystal laughed and squealed at her uncle.

"No, don't start with that, Lou!" Hailee pointed at him while hurriedly buttering a bagel for a busy Niall.

Niall looked up from the bagel and smiled at Louis. "You need to stop giving her tastes. We want her to like vegetables before anything else."

Louis began to argue about Crystal being his baby too and that one of them had to spoil her. 

_“Day,”_ Crystal called out, holding out her fingers up to Louis. It was her name for him. They all agreed it was some form of ‘Dad’ although she had no name for her actual parents yet, just _‘aye’._

Niall and Hailee exchanged looks just then and Hailee excused herself to the bathroom.

Louis shuffled around the room peeling a banana and dumping it in a bowl for Crystal. When he turned around Niall was also gone.

Louis shook his head as he mashed it up with a fork. _Fuckin rabbits..._

"Well, this is almost like ice-cream, so you have to have it," Louis offered the baby a spoonful. She ate it without complaint, mumbling nonsense words in between short good ones.

He lifted the spoon for another feed and heard a loud crash coming from the bathroom. Crystal gave a look of alert.

"Oh, yeah. Your parents are rabbits. Don't get too comfortable being an only child-"

He was cut off again by a pained screech. _Okay, that's not sex!_

Bounding up and darting down the hall, he shoved the bathroom door open. A sobbing Hailee was kneeling, hands wet up to her forearms, gripping the edge of the bowl. Niall’s arms were tightly restraining her from behind. The sound of the toilet tank refilling said it all. He must have flushed her stash down the bowl and she desperately tried to get it out and failed.

Louis stood over the scene for a few seconds, when the baby started crying and he dashed back to the kitchen.

Niall came back into the kitchen to grab his suitcase, stopping with a face that said he had no desire to leave now. He started digging around in it for cash, mumbling about hiring a babysitter for the day so he could take Hailee to therapy. Louis was always peeved at Niall for haplessly dumping his money in there instead of using a wallet, but this was not the time to argue.

Louis was quick on the draw. "I'll grab a seminar some other time, I can watch Crystal.” He sent a half-death-glare in the direction of the toilet to hint he was well aware of the situation.

"She couldn't even wait till I was gone," was the reply Louis got from a grateful Niall. And then he was falling apart in front of him. 

Louis’ feet worked faster than his brain. Straight into the toilet.

“What is wrong with you?” he bellowed at her and she cowered into the corner shivering. Good, he thought.

He heard a foot skid on the concrete behind him. He did not stop. “Did you really think you’d get high with Crystal in the house?”

“She can’t help it.” Niall said. “She has a problem, Louis. She needs help, not the 411.”

“Why are you taking this from her? Why won’t you leave her and file for sole custody?”

Niall pointedly caught his stare and sought to keep it. “Do you remember before you left you asked me to go see Madam Ruhina?”

Louis twitched a nod. “You- you said you were done with that stuff,” he stuttered. It brought up painful memories he’d rather stay stuffed away.

Keeping his eyes on Louis, Niall took in massive breath and failed to speak. And

Eyes rolling over him, Louis understood and gasped.

“She’s your soulmate isn’t she? _I knew it._ ”

“No,” Niall shook his head grimly. “You are.”

Louis jutted out his head in a ‘come again’ fashion, his arms akimbo, his temples beading.

Niall glanced at Hailee still sobbing on the bathroom floor. “After you left I thought if I did as you asked...” 

"So we went to her shack in the village. Gypsies don’t normally do that but she warmed up to Hailee.”

In one motion, Louis turned his back on him then turned around to face him again. A farrago of emotions coursed through him and at any minute his legs might cave in. “I don’t get it. How am I your soulmate? You were there with me the first time. She told me it wasn’t you.”

Niall grabbed his hair up and turned on him, still standing out in the hallway.

Dragging herself up from the floor, Hailee joined in, voice strangulated. “Madam Ruhina; she’s an empath. She goes on what she feels. That day she read you, she felt Niall’s energy. But she also felt a _Harry_.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Louis said, looking at Niall. “If you’re my soulmate then where the hell did she get Harry from?”

“Madam Ruhina said this Harry is to you the same thing Hailee is to me.”

“What? An obstruction?” Louis’ voice was like blending ice. How could the universe be so cruel to keep his soulmate from him?

“Twin soul.”

Hearing the words, Hailee began to choke out wails. Louis’ eyelashes batted like a speed ball.

“She said when you came alone before,” Niall rejoined, “she felt two energies- mine and Harry’s- but wanted to wait to see which one you met first. The second time when I went with you she saw how close we were but she was again conflicted with the two energies and she didn’t want to confuse you by giving you a name that might not be mine. That’s why she was reluctant to help us.”

Hailee swallowed to add; “She couldn’t tell if Niall was the stronger twin soul energy or the weaker soulmate one. You can imagine how overwhelmingly difficult both energies were for her to decipher. She would have been compelled to give you the name of the stronger energy.”

Niall hummed in agreement. “Remember you said: _‘When you’re about to reunite you get excited for no reason, you’re drawn to a certain place...’_ For the four of us it was Rome.”

Louis scrunched his brows, taking ‘the four of us’ to mean him and Harry, and Niall and Hailee. His brain dizzy and his stomach rumbling, he doubled over.

“You can mistake the two,” Niall locked eyes on him. “But like you said, a twin soul is different from a soulmate.”

“It can’t be true,” Louis’ eyes flashed wildly. “She’s your twin soul?” A rain of fresh awareness beat down on him, washing away everything he thought he knew. Soulmate. Niall was his soulmate. Not his twin soul. The soulmate he told him years ago, that he wasn’t. He dumped Niall, locked the door to his love and jilted them for nothing. He looked at Hailee... not for nothing, Niall had his twin soul. And he (Louis) was the one in the way.

His feet began to move backward, and with one look at Niall, he turned and marched up the hallway. Feet came tapping behind him, and he stopped.

Louis then turned around, the pasty skin below his eyes slithering with water. “What does it feel like when you’re with her?” He bit down on his teeth. They were alone now; Hailee hadn’t come out of the bathroom. Louis could hear her quiet sobs from two rooms away.

Niall’s face screwed up and he looked like he was about to combust. “Everything they say it is. I can’t explain it.”

Louis began to nod, coming to a silent decision, until it seemed he couldn’t stop nodding.

“But I love you,” Niall tried, a digging pain in his gut. “I still love you, Louis. Hailee’s the one who made me face it. She saw it from the beginning. She knows how I feel about you and she still loves me. This whole triangle, it wasn’t easy for her but she knows I can’t walk away from you.”

Louis shook his head low then drew his focus. “But then again you can’t walk away from _her_ . The book said; _‘You are innately designed to be with your twin soul, not your soulmate. Your soulmate is designed to be with their twin soul.’_ -You take care of her, you don’t abandon her even when she disappoints you and makes bad decisions. She’s your twin soul. And I want that with someone. I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that the connection you have with me is as strong as the one you have with her.”

Niall made a cynical half-laugh. “But Madam Ruhina said that just because you meet your twin soul doesn’t mean you are meant to be together in this life. Both souls have their own individual course to take before they can be one. It could take centuries across different reincarnations for them to be ready to become One. If you meet them before you’re ready, then you don’t have to be with them in a relationship. It’s a pull, yes, but you can choose who you want to be with. I choose you.”

“You had a baby with your twin soul, Niall. It doesn’t get any more _One_ than that. And who knows? Maybe I’ll meet Harry one day. It doesn’t even matter if I don’t get to, or if we’re not ready. That is where my heart belongs.”

He saw Niall go green in the face as he tasted the bitter rejection he just fed him.

“You are never going to be fulfilled until you find Harry. I get that now more than ever. But I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

Louis’ legs were boiling macaroni. His temples were beating drums. He felt his stomach erupting. There was no room for anymore harrowing or confusing words.

“I need time,” he said, and walked out, not knowing how he got to the front door and out of the house.

°°°

**1992**

**Niall pov**

_‘Hello?’_

_‘Hey...We need to talk...?’_

It was after eight in the evening. Hailee was trying to get Crystal to settle down, and Niall had been riveted to the TV when Louis called. He spoke briefly, inviting over, then hung up. Mumbling to Hailee anxiously, Niall grabbed his coat and thundered out.

Two months. That’s how long it took Louis to call.

After Louis walked out, Niall had sat Hailee down and told her it was over. His connection with Hailee had been magical, like they were one on every level, and he knew his soul was forged from the same flame as Hailee’s and that their souls’ immortal goal was to end up together, but his soulmate already had his heart in this life. He was the soulmate Louis had come to Rome looking for. And if Harry doesn’t show up, then Niall made up his mind to be with Louis for the rest of his life. She cried, but she understood the connection he had with Louis was not going to abate. She said she was not going to stand in their way. Niall told her she could stay for the baby.

Niall had left countless messages for Louis. He said he needed time. He had promised not to run away again.

He walked up to the apartment and knocked. Louis sounded pretty vague on the phone. Tired, Niall thought. He too was tired of all the tension and waiting.

Louis opened the door. His sky-crystalline eyes gave Niall’s black Burberry coat a once-over and he walked away from it. 

Niall sauntered in. A few streets away from their old address, the place was small- one bedroom, barely room for the miniscule dining table in the main space. Louis didn’t even bother buying a sofa for the place. Niall didn’t see where one would fit except maybe if one was willing to hop over it to get into the tiny kitchen. 

He sighed. Lately it seemed he kept walking into Louis’ new spaces, of the new life he made without Niall.

Louis took a seat at the table and gestured for Niall to join him.

“I have a surprise for you,” Niall said, sitting down. It came out sounding neurotic, he thought. It wiped off in seconds as he saw tears leak down Louis’ florid face.

“What’s wrong?” he straightened his back.

“My father is sick,” Louis replied, in a barely-there tone. “Heart attack. The doctor said his heart is significantly weaker now, deteriorating.”

Niall’s hand flew across the table and took his wrist. “Oh fuck, Lou.”

Louis wrapped his fingers up in it. “It was me, Niall. I hurt him. I broke his heart.”

Niall knew how tough this was for Louis. The old man had talked to Louis sparingly over the years, conveniently he would be super busy out the door and about to sleep etcetera, never any deep conversations or _'Are you okay over there?’_ nothing. There had been times Niall wanted to grab the phone and tell the man to go shove it up his...

“Heart failure can happen to anyone,” he opted to hide his true feelings and comfort him.

Louis shook his head and wiped his nose with his sleeve, decision in his eyes. “I have to go. I can’t let my mother deal with this alone.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No. You have to stay here with your twin soul and your baby.”

“At least tell me you’re coming back.”

“Why? What are you going to do, Niall? Take turns, schedule which days you spend with me and which with her? See, I’ve thought about this. I can’t let you break up your family for me.”

“And what about Harry?”

Louis held his head and laughed. “He never showed up. I can’t wait for him forever. I have to go apologize to my father before it’s too late. I’m done waiting for Harry. I’m going home.”

*

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help me reach 70 kudos!!
> 
> Chapter one will be uploaded shortly. Subscribe for notifs.


	2. Chapter one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is chapter one but to me it always felt more like prologue part 2.  
> note-They don't exchange names so I tagged it accordingly. I hope you enjoy it and please leave nice comments.  
> Chapter 2 will be uploaded today as well. Chapters will be posted once a day or every two days according to when I get the chance to come online.

**'** **_I think love can happen at any age. It has no age'~ Shah Rukh Khan._ **

**2017**

It had been years since he had done anything as risqué as this. A few days ago he had gotten a call from his doctor that slam dunked his entire life. He liked to think he was a reasonable person. Arthritis wasn’t a life threatening illness, his mother had told him, laughing and comparing it to her osteoporosis. But the thought of having on and off pain indefinitely for the rest of his life was scary to him. It was already pathetic he was a fifty-one-year-old recently divorced workaholic who never took time off, but to top it off an old amatory urge he thought had long faded suddenly resurfaced. So of course, an existential crisis was in order, and the only way to solve it was to kill two birds with one stone.

With his sweaty hand he slid his hotel key card in the door slot but it didn’t open. It was Friday and he was about to spend the entire weekend inside this room away from work with an escort from a service he called after thinking long and hard about how he got to this place in his life. He didn’t get it. He exercised regularly and ate healthily, had a great skin care routine, but still the gods dared to poke a finger at him. Oh well, he might as well get a good fuck before he deteriorated into old age.

As he tried the key again the sound of the elevator opening and rolling luggage whisked through his ears. Hand on the door, he turned around and was met with stark green eyes blazing back at him...

*****

Harry looked through his Ray Ban’s sunglasses up at the skyscraper hotel. The afternoon dazzle behind it was glaringly white but he welcomed it. The dark clouds had been unrelenting all week and only eased up today, so he was lucky.

He wheeled his suitcase towards the building.

 _Harry, please be careful-_ He dipped in his back denim pocket and read his friend Zayn’s text in his mind before entering the lobby. The message kept him alert though he had already formed an image of what else he might be _entering_ soon.

Checking in at the counter, he made his way into the elevator. Once inside, he bent over the trolley bag and dug in the side pocket for his mouth spray, his eyes darting around towards the other occupants. There was no telling what sort of guy this was going to be, if he was a spontaneous lover leaving no room for Harry to freshen up first. Straightening back up, he sprayed a couple times, rolling his tongue around as the cool mint flavor exploded in his mouth.

The elevator stopped and everyone scattered out leaving him alone to go higher up to his destined floor. He took the opportunity to reapply his chapstick looking in his tiny clasp mirror.

A minute later Harry was rolling his luggage out. He paused in the middle of the red-carpeted hallway, scanning all the doors for the right number. He didn’t have to search long; there leaning on the door he was sent to, was one of the most handsome men he had ever seen- provided he was only getting a view of his distant profile. The man had dark, moused back hair with a light haze of grey settled in it, and Harry could smell the faint amber and musk cologne from yards away. He was sharp-jawed, and his suit fit in all the right places. Harry reckoned this man had to at least have a white collar job and carry around a briefcase every day. Except today he had a suitcase like Harry.

He was fidgeting with a key card, shoving it in the slot and muttering curse words when the door failed to open. Vision shifting to the number on the door and back to the man, he ventured out of the elevator.

Not wanting to make a final judgement until he saw his face and got a feel of his personality, Harry wheeled up to him.

The man’s head turned sharply, a tad startled that he was no longer alone in the hallway, and Harry released a massive breath. The man was ten times more attractive up close, with penetrating blue eyes and a charming stubble. He struck Harry to be about breaching middle-age, and he oozed self-assurance. Harry looked down at his hand holding the card, and noticed his silver cufflinks. Harry had only seen those on the preppy kids’ dads at high school fundraiser dinners and graduation. The thought flashed across his mind- is he about to spend the weekend with someone’s dad?

Harry held out his hand, offering to try the key as he plastered a friendly smile on his face, hoping to ease the ridges on the man’s forehead.

“You must be the bellboy,” he assumed, handing the card to Harry and moving aside for him to try. With slight hesitation, Harry took the card and slid it in.

“I’m not the bellboy, but I can be if that’s what gets you off.”

The man’s cheeks went crimson. “I beg your pardon!?” his words came out confused and scandalized. Harry minded it.

“I, uh- this is the room the company sent me to?” he gestured to the door number.

The man looked at him, his face like he was beginning to have hot flashes. "Oh no, this can’t be right. You're young."

"I get that a lot," Harry replied cheekily.

"I'm sorry this isn't going to work!" he exclaimed.

"I am young," Harry said slowly, eyebrows furrowed in offense. “But don’t worry, I’m fully cooked. In my twenties, actually.” He wrung his hand around the luggage handle, looking pointedly at the door.

The older man stared at him in contemplation. Then suddenly making a mad dash for the inside, he slammed the door shut.

Harry stood in total shock for a moment, staring at the door, unsure of what to do next. Raising his hand haltingly, he almost knocked, before deciding against it. Pulling his luggage around, he started to walk back towards the elevator, a sense of humiliation beginning to settle in his gut, when he heard the rattle and click of the handle opening.

He turned around. The burning blue eyes flooded him from between the door crease. And when it seemed he was finally coming to terms with what he was looking at, the man slowly widened the crease in a shyly inviting way.

Taking it as an invitation, Harry rolled his luggage into room twenty-eight of the Lamure Hotel. The suite smelled of patchouli and honey and had rose petals everywhere that Harry knew must have been scattered by request.

The man looked around the room timidly as he closed the door, eyes landing on everything except for Harry.

“I'll freshen up,” Harry spoke into the silence, side-stepping into the bathroom, fully aware that no spontaneity –at least not of a sexual nature- was to be expected.

Harry was not planning on staying more than a total of three hours if he didn’t like the client. It was the minimum time he was allowed to spend in a session according to his job requirements with the company. He had only joined the firm last week and it took that long for them to give him a client that matched up according to his identity- clientele that preferred genderfluid persons of male anatomy.

Harry began to strip, digging around his suitcase. He had brought with him clothes and toiletries, and _aspirin_ because he found himself so nervous he was sure he was going to run out the door before the client even got there. The fact that the client beat him to it made him snort. The form they had made him full out on hiring him had so many weird questions on it like _‘Have you ever been fisted’,_ and _‘do you enjoy it?’_ which Harry definitely put _‘No’_ and _‘NO!’_ But the one question he wasn't sure he knew the answer to was _‘Are you comfortable with older men?’_ He had wanted to leave that one blank because although _comfortable_ was not a word he would use, he didn't want to judge all because of a couple of bad experiences with the older men he dated in the past. But it was an escort job and most clients of this nature were in fact older men, so he ticked it.

So now in the posh hotel bathroom with smoky-patterned porcelain tiles and no-touch tap, Harry was surprised at how strangely calm this whole thing was going. He had expected being fucked silly by now by some sweaty aristocrat crack-head and left alone to gather himself together while the man moseyed back to his own life. But something about this man’s trepidation made Harry feel comfortable around an older man again. The man was nervous himself, Harry gathered, from the way he reacted to him. He figured that this sort of thing definitely didn't happen much in the man’s life, if at all. But he had the most engaging eyes and the way he tried hard not to look at Harry below the face out of some kind of weird respect was...attractive. He was miles from ugly, and Harry rather liked his grey patches of hair coming up around his sharp masculine hairline.

Harry got into the required clothing and pulled on his silk robe, leaving it untied, and tiptoed out of the bathroom. The man was sitting on the bed in a stiff perch. Harry saw his eyes widen as they laid on his robe-covered frame...

*

**Louis pov**

Making his way to the bed, hearing the sound of humming and running water, Louis knew the man was doing some sort of sexy prep in there. His heart racing a mile a minute, he knew the best course of action would be to run while he had the chance. His bones told him to grab his suitcase and leave at once, but his inner voice was saying something he knew would get the better of him. Maybe it’s just nervousness. After all, it was a long time. But the man was so young. Louis hadn’t reckoned how awkward it would be to do this again. He forgot he was still in his twenties the first time and that these services sprung youth.

He crept over to the bed- the only place to sit in the room besides the floor- and even though he had no intentions of sleeping with the man he thought he’d at least take off his shoes.

As he picked at the agelets, he heard swishes of material approaching, and the young man entered the room. He had on a silky robe, the only thing covering his back and arms. His long muscular, oiled legs bare between the parting, covered at the hips and groin only by a thin black thong. Now that Louis saw it, it was exactly what he asked for; long hair, delicate features... He could see himself sleeping with this person-a decade ago, maybe. He hadn’t done this in such a long time, he didn’t think they’d be this young. Only, he had slept with people this young...when he was himself around the same age. Maybe that is what it was. Maybe the fact that he was now older.

The young man stood by the bathroom door, his bottom lip slightly loose. He quickly closed it when Louis’ eyes fell in it, letting in a tensed breath. His almond colored hair was flowing all around his beautifully squared shoulders, and just as Louis was stuck on that aspect of his features, he tucked the left tresses behind his ear and looked down timidly. His skin was so clean and flushed it was like looking at a glass of strawberry milk. He smelled like heav... _Abort. Abort!_ were the only words thundering through Louis’s mind now. It only took him a second to decide. And he decided that his body- or a particular part of his body- was not cooperating.

"Do you like it?” The man fiddled with his robe lacing. “They told me this was your preference.”

Louis tried. Nothing came out. No words budged.

The man looked at him with suspicious eyes and swerved his head pointedly, encouraging a reply.

Louis breathed in deep, unable to escape the scented hand cream that _whooshed_ his nose. He took in a long breath and released it slowly through his nose. This is what he came for. An entire weekend in a grand hotel with an escort. He laughed inwardly at himself.

Leaping off the bed and taking to the door, Louis froze, his hands pressed on it.

“Are you leaving?” he heard the man ask with a slight whimper in his voice. He did not mean to cause that. Suddenly he felt bad.

“Aren’t you even in the slightest concerned with how much older I am than you?” he said to the door before slowly turning around to face the problem. A very well packaged problem indeed. He closed his eyes momentarily so as not to allow himself the pleasure of such a forbidden sight.

"How old are you?” The younger man cast his eyes over Louis’ frame timorously, eyes widening on descent. Louis followed his spiked gaze to where there was a mound in his trousers and swallowed loudly, hesitant. He felt himself expand and he wished the man would look away. Things were already embarrassing as it is.

“Sorry, you don't have to answer that." The younger man bowed his head slightly to question whether Louis wanted him to come closer.

"I'm fifty-one," Louis gave, his right arm moving to cover his front under the pretext of scratching his left hip.

The younger man walked closer until they were two feet apart. He looked up at Louis, an arched eyebrow and a tiny smirk his only reaction. From this close he could see the molten jade of his irises in puffy eyes that looked naturally, healthily so, not as a result of stress or tire. They were delicate, yet something about them gave off a wisdom beyond age. He observed his posture and frame; he housed a quiet temper that was common with most of Louis’ peers.

"What?" Louis said, his eyebrows facing off each other, yet his expression remaining soft and expectant.

"Nothing," came the young man's reply, his face slightly scarlet. "Did you take a pill or something?" The naughty dimples showed up on the man’s cheeks, proving to Louis that he was quick to judge, after all the man was a tiny drop in a sea of spoiled youth of today. His childishness had to show up somewhere.

"I'm fifty-one, not _eighty-one,”_ riposted Louis.

The man showed teeth finally. "Are you married?"

"Divorced."

"I'm sorry,” he replied, taking Louis' hand suggestively. His hands were smooth yet with a firm grip that seemed capable of things like building a log cabin, or chopping firewood for survival. His cheeks though were so soft and dimply and his lips...

"I can't do this,” Louis tried pulling away but he would not release his hand. “I have to go."

"No- Just - please stay."

"I'm sorry for wasting your time,” Louis said, easing his arm just enough to make him think he wouldn’t try to yank it away again. And it worked. His hand was now free. Funny, Louis now wished it wasn’t.

"We don't have to do anything." The young man turned and hopped on the bed. He bent his knees and draped his arms over them.

Louis swallowed hard. He had a panoramic view of the thong under his silky robe. He darted his eyes in a different direction.

He heard a series of _puffs_ on the bed and saw the man patting the spot to offer a space. The thong still peeping at him. He had no idea why this was so awkward for him. This is the sort of scene he would have usually mastered; pull his legs out..., turn him over.... It was perfect. He was perfect.

But for some unknown reason, Louis was eating himself up about whether to even sit next to him.

After a beat or so, he gave up and took the spot on the farthest edge away from him- the top left corner. The man had to swivel his body around to see him.

"So, why are you divorced?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “I assume you weren’t satisfied?”

"It was a marriage of convenience that expired its purpose. But we're still friends," Louis answered, looking down at his feet, which were off the bed so his back was turned to him.

The younger man snapped his mouth shut and swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Didn't come here to talk about my ex anyway." Louis tried to undo his top button.

“I can help you with that.” The young man said in a voice that made Louis turn. He was simpering at the bulge between Louis’ legs.

A _whack_ sounded in Louis' chest and his heart took off in a rapid race. The young man’s smile went slightly wider and his eyes bright as he leaped over to Louis. It seemed he had taken his silence as a yes.

"You can touch my hair if you want, but not the back of my scalp," he gibbered, stooping down between Louis’ knees, his hands on his thighs. "I'm sensitive there."

"No. I can't let you do that," Louis took his hands and slid his body away from him. He then jumped to his feet and scrambled for his shoes. "I- I need to leave.”

"I’m sorry, I thought this was what you came here for." The man sounded slightly annoyed as he watched Louis shove his feet back in his shoes.

"Well, I can't have sex with you, so..."

There was a slight pause, then; "So, we don't have to. We can just enjoy the sea and the sun."

Louis looked at him. They were miles from the nearest beach.

"-I mean, _pool_...and the sun. I've never been to a hotel like this before."

Louis's eyes slowly rolled. "I'll tell reception you'll be staying a while."

"Aren't you staying too?" The man’s eyes were so full of hope as he tucked his hair back behind his ear. "I don't wanna be here by myself." 

"I don't have time for this,” Louis said flatly. He had to end this now. 

"You obviously took time off from somewhere to be here.”

Louis sighed. He had tried to avoid it and leave before he had to, but the man wasn't taking a hint, so he figured this was time to tell him.

"I'm sorry. I thought you would be...older or more mature at least. You're half my age and it's just weird for me." 

He watched the man’s eyelids slowly lower to close. "Oh. They told me you wanted a-”

"I do- I did- I don't have anything against you, just your age. I’m a father. I have a _granddaughter."_

"Is she around my age?”

"She's six years old."

"Oh. Then you being with me can't be that gross. If she was like, my age, then there would be an ‘ew’ factor."

"Oh, that's still an ‘ _ew’_ factor,” Louis assured. “Plus my son is- Wait for it- eighteen years old."

“He had a kid when he was twelve?” the man said incredulously. “And you’re judging me?”

“She’s not _his_ daughter, you twat. She belongs to my eldest daughter. _She’s_ in her late twenties. What I meant was, my son is probably the closest to you in age.”

Getting over Louis’s remark, the young man seemed to be mulling it over. "I'm a few years older than him, so it's still-"

"-A large ew!" Louis finished for him.

"Fine,” he twiddled his thumbs. “But you can still enjoy the room you paid for."

"I guess you're right,” Louis shared a smile with him. “But you need to put some more clothes on first."

Caustically setting his dimples, the young man unlaced his robe and let it slip off.

Turning to give him privacy, Louis heard light footsteps and a suitcase dragging and unzipping, and the swishing of clothes being pulled out.

"So do you do this full-time, or?" he asked timidly to the wall.

The man spoke with quick heaved breaths while getting his clothes on. "This is actually my first time on the job. I'm in college. I just need a few credits before acquiring my dream job."

"Which is?"

"Editor."

"Oh,” Louis tried not to look excited. “I happen to know a thing or two about that."

"I'm sure you do. But I didn't come here to talk about my boring life, so..."

"Why are you doing this job?" he echoed into the room, surprising himself. It was an odd thing to ask, rude even but yet it slipped out.

He heard a jeans zip up sharply.

"I need to pay my college tuition fees,” the man replied, slightly offended. “Surely those days aren't so ancient that you forgot about the fees? Or was it cheaper in those days?"

"I didn't go to college. Yet I can say I didn’t starve for success.”

"Wow. You're so humble. I'm attracted," the man replied with every stroke of sarcasm. “You can turn around now.”

Louis obeyed. Tight stone-washed jeans, plain brown cotton tee, he looked normal and finally comfortable, quite in his element. Louis too felt tons lighter in this setting. He can function in this setting.

The man stood glaring at him, arms folded. “Look, I don’t know what the grade system was like in your day but now you have to go through a lot of red tape bullshit just to get an entry-level job. But at least I can have fun while earning it.” 

The tone sounded, to Louis, like a slight stretch in the truth, and he began to wonder if the man was displeased with him as a client. If so then although the thought was depressing, it would not be difficult to rearrange the dynamics of their meeting. Nothing wrong with a friendly chat to a lad.

“I had lots of fun growing up too,” Louis said in a teasing manner, emphasis on the ‘growing up.’

The younger man dropped his jaw in mock hurt expression “Okay, smarty pants. Tell me. Where in your _amazing_ life did you have _real_ fun? The kind where you don't have a care in the world- just to be in the moment and laugh?" 

Stifling his grin, Louis’ eyes faded in thought.

~~

****

_'So wild standing there_

_With her hands in her hair_

_I can't help remember_

_Just where she touched me…’_

_Wild, free, on the clouds. Three ways to describe what Louis was feeling dancing with this stranger in dark windbreaker sunglasses and a striated grey suit with a tie tucked in a red petticoat. The man blew around him, kicking sweaty smells mixed with weed._

_They were dancing having veered close to each other while generally dancing on their own. Louis didn’t want to read into it and he would be dumb to, really. But this felt like total anarchy. He was not even sure if the guy was at the party alone or was even gay for that matter. All he knew was he was on a high that had little to do with the alcohol in his system. This he knew because it was not the first time he drank in the presence of a man._

_The guy was barely touching him as they jumped and turned under the Walmart disco light taped to the ceiling by the hosts, yet the feel of him was as real and potent as the wet shirt he had on._

_‘Music, high and sweet_

_Then she just blew away...’_

_Then the song simmered down and the guy’s head fell backwards in opposition. Louis laughed. Not a short you’re-so-funny laugh but a crazy reverberant laugh like he hadn’t laughed in ages, and that this one moment of sweat and energy and flashing colors was what it took to feel alive and hopeful._

_‘I’m the same boy I used to be...’_

~~

“So?” the young man was saying, and Louis blinked back into the room. He had turned the TV on the MTV channel where a weekly countdown was in play.

Louis had a lot of great times in his life but for some crazy reason that night was the first thing that came up in his mind. That song. The smells, the moods of that party all those years ago, all of it on his nostrils so close as if he were back there. It was so stupid and random; he could never do justice telling it to someone who obviously hadn’t even been born yet when it happened. Not that anything happened more than a dance and a friendly chat.

“I had many. Too many to count,” was his ultimate reply to the question, opting to keep the memory of that one party to himself for safekeeping. He was astonished at how his thoughts felt less like a flashback this time but like he was actually there, tasting the alcohol, feeling the heat of the party-goers that had been swarming in the cramped living room.

The younger man seemed to accept this answer with a cursory nod.

"Okay, so do you want me to dance or something? Lighten things up in here?" the young man said, now moving about the room and clicking his fingers to the music video on the TV.

Louis froze, eyes wary on the man, seriously wondering if he had been perusing his thoughts. "No, it's fine,” he answered distantly when he was satisfied it was coincidental.

“Wait, you dance too?" It now clicked what the chatty young man was saying. There was a look of pure disbelief with the smirk he was sporting now as he observed the man’s hips serpentine, and his hair swishing. He didn’t look like a stripper, he looked more like an eighties rock star with that thick long hair that seemed to swallow up his neck. Louis took a second to look away and breathe and swallow his building saliva.

The younger man clenched his jaw and made a turn on his heels to face the TV. "I'm still in college. I go to lots of parties. I _dance_ at these parties like many other students, or normal people for that matter."

"I'd never have figured that," Louis said, ignoring his sass. "You don't strike me as the frat party type."

The younger man dropped his arms, spun around to glower down at him. “I’m not. And you don’t strike me as the _any'_ party type.”

“I wasn’t,” Louis paused, “...Usually. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t live a full life.” _Who am I trying to fool?_

The dancer tilted his head. “Why are you talking about your life in the past tense?”

Louis looked up at him. The guy moved closer and bent down, face-level with him, his hands propped on his femurs. Louis gulped.

“You’re breathing and you can walk and talk and still eat, right?” 

Louis nodded tersely in reply, trying not to be offended.

“So, you can still shape your life. Let me ask you something; How old would you be if you didn’t know your age?”

Louis scratched his head as the man continued.

“It isn’t fair to judge someone or assume what they are and aren’t capable of based on their age. So, why do that to yourself? You think about that,” he finished, raising a wise eyebrow.

“Satchel Paige…" Louis smiled. "Someone knows their baseball. I’m impressed.”

“I used to play from eighth to tenth grade.”

“Me too. Until my father pulled me out at eleventh to join the debate team.”

“Is he still around?”

“No, he passed years ago. He was keen on me becoming a politician like him- I’m not, by the way,” he smiled when he saw the younger man scan him curiously.

“Was he at least proud of whatever you became?” the younger man asked, skipping over the opportunity to ask him what he did for a living. Louis found that respect for boundaries admirable.

“He died before I ever found out if he was.”

“Hmm,” the younger man bit his top lip. “Well then let’s agree that wherever he is, he is proud of you.”

Louis’s gaze fell from the scene around him. He doubted his father would be proud of this. Any of this.

*

**Louis pov**

As the day waned Louis decided to take a shower while waiting for room service. When he was done he wrapped a towel around himself and stood in front of the sink. He ran his product through his hair and dabbed his moisturizer on his face, looking in the circular mirror. His mustache was speckled with grey, and there were fine lines around his eyes that he had not noticed there since before the diagnosis. He squeezed the tube and applied a thicker dose on it as though somehow the years would evaporate from his skin.

He dropped the towel on the tile and slid a leg into his briefs. Halfway in, he realised he had done it too quickly as he had put his left leg in the wrong opening. Shaking his head, he pulled it back out and fixed the fabric. He was about to slip in correct this time, when the bathroom door swung open.

It was his _roommate._ He had stormed in unannounced and now stood in the doorway with a shocked look on his face. But his eyes were not level with him. They were fixed on his crotch. The stare quickly turned from shock to something that loosely resembled admiration.

“Gods sakes,” he keeled into his briefs. “Can you knock?”

The young man’s eyes were glued to him, his face in a certain shock now. He then pointed, red-faced at the space below his belly button.

Louis looked down at himself and gasped. He had put his briefs on so fast he hadn’t adjusted it and most of his goods were hanging through his left leg hole. He let loose a growl and grabbed the towel around himself.

“I’m sorry. I needed to wee,” the intruder turned back out the door. “It can wait.”

Louis clutched the towel and shot passed him. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

After all clothes were on, he crawled into the far right side of the bed with a magazine, his hip overlapping the edge. He planned to take a pillow and a blanket to the small couch soon. 

A few minutes later the younger man came out of the bathroom and slowly eased his way into the bed next to him. Tossing an eye on the scene, he grabbed the culture-oriented magazine from Louis' hands.

Louis' lips pursed at the cover of it that was now blocking the young man’s face; A young Disney celebrity expressing pride in being a role model for young girls (according to the bold font) graced the cover of it. He rolled his eyes wondering what that had to do with culture. If he had done the cover he'd want native tribal leader or Greek sculpture on the cover, but okay, _Miley Cyrus_ it is.

“Should’ve known you into Hannah Montana.” Louis cocked his chin to it.

The magazine thief flipped it to look at the cover. “Surprised you even know what Hannah Montana is,” he replied, hitting him a benign look and going back to the pages. “That’s Selena Gomez, by the way, not Miley.”

“What’s the difference? They both sing and act and dated One Direction members.” He made the _One Direction_ sound like moldy bread.

The younger man snorted. “I think you mean the Jonas Brothers _._ Nick, to be precise."

“Again, what’s the difference? And I do know who Hannah Montana is. I have a granddaughter, remember? We watch reruns together.”

“Then you should know better who the Jonas brothers are,” he replied lazily. "Oh! Here's a quiz we can do," he briefly showed Louis the page. _"'Is Your Heart Where it's Supposed to Be?’"_

Louis smiled. He quite liked that quiz... "Okay," he said, sitting up with the soles of his feet together. "Hit me."

"‘ _What type of food would you like to eat out with friends on a Friday?_ ’"

"Pizza."

"Pizza? Seriously? You’re not even trying to be creative."

"Okay...I thought I was the one being asked?" Louis scratched his eyebrow.

"Okay, then,” the _interviewer_ grinned in allowance, and Louis got a view of the dimples again. _Dimples, I think I’ll call him Dimples._ “But then they ask, _‘and what type of meal do you actually eat out with friends...on a Friday?’ -_ It’s part of the same question, I guess to prove some point."

Louis snorted. "I don't go out on Fridays with friends."

Dimples looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you have any friends?" he asked as politely as possible.

"Of course I do," he picked at the lint on the sheets. "I’m in a book club and it’s very enlightening and intelligible. Much better than tramping around town like teenagers. Next question."

The younger man assented with a nod, pursing his lips. "Okay. ' _What was the most life-changing day of your life?'"_

"I’ve had a few of those."

“Alright.” The young man smiled. "Can you tell me about one of them?"

"That's not in the quiz," Louis answered spottily and briefly poked his finger in the man’s left dimple.

A laugh escaped the younger man and the dimples grew deeper. "How do you know?"

Louis sighed. "Like I said...there were quite a few to point out."

And that was right- his children’s births, his granddaughter’s birth, the day he _met_ Niall, the day he...

~~

**February 1994**

_The morning light shone like a stencil through the lace curtains, throwing tiny shadows on the dining table of the kitchen. Finishing up his daughter’s pigtails, Niall took a chug of milk straight out of the jug, slammed it down on the table and checked his watch. He patted the semi- neat hairdo and headed for the bathroom._

_"I'm running late, Crystal. Put Daddy's briefcase on the dining table, will you! I'll grab it when uncle Griffin gets here!"_

_"I'll put it by the door, Papa!" Crystal shouted, but he did not hear her as the shower was already on._

_As she rested the briefcase down by the front door, someone knocked._

_The little girl ran to the door and opened it._

_"Hey,” the man said breathless, kneeling down._

_The little girl stepped back, frightened._

_There was a thundered stomping in the hall and Niall appeared in his towel._

_Ice blue eyes landed on Louis' frame and he froze in mid motion like a feline caught in stride._

_“Louis!” he said. “I thought- I thought you were Griffin.”_

_Louis stared back at him bright-eyed, unable to speak out of shock. Niall didn’t know why he should be; he was the one who came here without a warning. The last time he spoke to Louis was over a year ago_ _when the man called him from his mother’s house to tell him his father had passed away, just two months after he went back to England._ _Niall had understood in his tone that he wasn’t coming back._

_Niall then cast eyes on his daughter who was running toward him in fear._

_“Sweetie, do you remember your uncle?” he re-enforced the towel to get down to her level._

_Louis smiled hopefully. The little girl shook her head, her knuckles in her mouth shyly._

_“It’s okay. He’s a friend. Why don’t you show him your coloring while I get dressed, okay?”_

_He then looked up at Louis with a glare. “She used to only want you now she doesn’t even remember you. Go figure.”_

_Niall then disappeared and Louis decided to sit at the table to wait._

_He set his briefcase down haphazardly on the dining table and smiled at the child. "Look who’s gotten so big! How's my beautiful niece doing?"_

_He fought back stinging tears. He wanted to hold her. Her hair was the same color as Niall’s and even her eyes were the same blue. The only thing he could place for Hailee was beaver ears._

_“How are you," he said, hoping she eased and drew nearer._

_"I’m staying home today,” she said without being asked._

_"Oh, really? No school today?" Louis asked, glad she was talking to him._

_"No, I had a cold. I'm okay now but Papa doesn't want to send me to school yet to make sure. Uncle Griffin said he’d baby sit.”_

_"Oh. Uncle Griffin…" Not Hailee…_

_Niall came out, in his suit this time. His tie was askew and a comb in hand to sort out his wet hair. Crystal ran behind him and picked up a sock that apparently dropped from his other hand containing his brown, polished shoes._

A _smile flew onto Louis’ face and he got up. Happy to see me?"_

_The two stared at each other for a while before closing in the space in a tight embrace._

_"Thought you said you weren't coming back?" Niall asked as they pulled apart._

_"I came for an important business meeting. Got invited to a dinner party last night by an old friend from one of Hailee’s old seminars. Good Chap. Griffin would know him. Really wants to help make my dream come true."_

_"That's good. Well, I'm glad you dropped in for Crystal's sake." Niall's voice had a standoffish edge. “I heard you were engaged.”_

_Louis took in a large breath. He must have heard it from his cousin Duncan, whom Louis made immediate friends with when Duncan flew over from Ireland on hearing Niall’s best friend was on English soil. They hit it off when the younger man told Louis he too took an interest in Journalism having been inspired by the Herculean times. He wanted to know everything about Rome and why Niall didn’t come back with him, and Louis had to tell him the truth. Duncan was astonished and kept telling Louis he had to go back and get Niall. He had given the bloke a contact for Niall and he guessed now his engagement was part of the cousin-to-cousin conversations._

_“My mother is the instigator in that whole thing. My father made some bad financial decisions and had little to leave her when he died. This arranged marriage is her chance of getting back in good graces with her old social circle. Right now she's seething her friends are treating her like a nouveau riche."_

_Remembering his extravagant childhood, Louis was sympathetic toward his mother. He knew it was difficult to walk away from the only lifestyle she knew. He only bred contempt at the fake friends she was trying so hard to impress even after they shunned her upon hearing of his father’s posthumous bankruptcy._

_Crystal, seeing her father talking so familiarly with the strange man, drew closer and was now clutching the table edge, scanning Louis' outfit- a violet shirt under a black suit jacket and matching black trousers. As they spoke Louis felt her tugging at the gloves in his hand. He looked down at her encouragingly, slipping her one to play with._

_Fighting back a fond smile, Niall said; “So what else did you do over there besides get engaged?”_

_Louis’ eyes grazed the ceiling for an answer. “Uh, Duncan got me to go to a costume party to cheer me up just after my father died. Haven't been out much since.” He was still surprised at how much like Niall his younger cousin was and how well he had gotten along with Duncan._

_“Seriously? Who did you go as?” -Dear Niall, the guy who asks a ton of questions about one dumb party that Louis barely remembered._

_"I was Batman. Duncan was The Joker. And he made his own costume to boot. Used playdough and paint and a hog marble for the eye.”_

_Niall let a laugh rip through the air. That is exactly what he would have done. "So what happened at this party?"_

_"Hung out with a couple of his friends, met a 'Harry'. That sort of thing." Well at least he remembered that part._

_Niall did a double take. "You met a ‘Harry?’"_

_"Yep. This bloke was dressed up as Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry." Louis laughed and garnered another giggle out of Niall, which for some reason gave him tingling nostalgic feelings inside. It was good to be around his best friend again._

_"Friendly chap though. Almost liked him up until he started snogging The Riddler in front of me. His boyfriend even had the red hair." He made a circular gesture around his crown._ _He was expecting a laugh but the smile ran away from Niall's face when he heard that last part. He followed his gaze to where Crystal was shoving her tiny fingers in the gloves trying to match them up correctly._

_Louis pursed his lips. "So, how's Hailee?"_

_Crystal looked up on hearing her mother’s name._

_Niall sat down and shrugged, a little too defensive, beginning to put on his socks._

_Louis didn't need any more explanation or words. "You don't have to live like this, Niall."_

_Niall shook his head, not looking up. "Been managing all this time.” Who does Louis think he is coming here and casting judgement after he left us high and dry?_

_“You know my mama?” the little girl asked, tugging on Louis’ jacket. With a glance to Niall, he picked her up on his hip and told her all about how her mother used to cut his hair and cook nice meals._

_“Mama is working out of town these days, so she can’t cook me anything,” Crystal said sadly._

_Louis looked straight at Niall, who timely looked down at his shoes again._

_“What's it to you, anyway?" Niall glanced up at Louis while tying his lacing, his eyes intensely arctic. “Not like you’re staying.”_

_"That's right. I'm going back to England as soon as possible.”_

_And there it is, Niall thought, slipping in his other shoe faster now. Just passing through, saying hi to the old pal. That’s all I am to you. If that. Even Duncan replaced me._

_“And I want you and Crystal to come with me." Louis watched as Niall froze mid-knot. He understood the man was mad at him for leaving him again. But Louis wanted to make it up to him. He had never been more sure of anything in his life. He loved Niall. He knew that much. He knew it was asking a lot but he wanted back what they had when Hailee was in jail. He wanted to at least try to navigate through their feelings. And even if Niall didn’t love him anymore he still wanted to live with the man. At least that would be something real; God knows Louis needed real right now._

_“I want to see where you live, uncle Louis,” Crystal said, now playing with his short hair. He kissed her face._

_Standing up with his hands on his hips now, Niall seemed to be coming to a conclusion. "Wedding coming soon? It'll be hard to get Crystal out of school that long. Plus, she's never been overseas."_

_Louis could care less about the stupid wedding._ _"I mean; I want you to come live with me. Permanently. Leave all this behind. I don't want to marry Eleanor. It's like Danielle all over again?"_

_Niall who understood Louis better than anyone else, Niall who knew the past Louis left behind when he first came to Italy, looked at him and said nonchalantly, "Can't just pick up and leave."_

_Louis threw his arms up in frustration. Okay, it seemed Niall was angrier than he thought, that he abandoned him knowing Hailee was a flake in his and Crystal’s life, but he was here now._

_"Niall, please. If my mother sees I'm happy and with you and Crystal she will drop the marriage thing."_

_"Is that the only reason you're asking?" Niall asked, gazing on his Adam's apple. "To evade your mother’s wish?"_

_“I have a plan drawn out to start the journal again, but bigger this time. The LGBT community back home is fighting for some of the same rights Italy already has. They need us to give them a voice. They need the Herculean Times. I don’t want to do it without you.”_

_Niall shrugged. "I can't take Crystal away from her mother."_

_"Maybe some time away from Crystal will be better for Hailee. She’ll miss her and maybe turn her life around."_

_"Or maybe it'll kill her!" Niall shouted over range. Crystal jumped and buried her face in Louis' shoulder. He whispered to her comfortingly, eyes latched on Niall scoldingly._

_Niall was more shocked at the fact that she was now so clingy with Louis when a few minutes ago she was scared of the man. Niall looked away to the umbrella stand where a Kelly green flag Duncan had sent him stood in it. It was meant as a reminder of who he was and where he was from. Something for Crystal to know her roots. He sighed, thinking it would be nice to see his mother again._

_Snapping out of it, he stepped over to them and re-curled Crystal’s pigtails. "Look, I gotta go to work. Griffin is gonna be here soon; you good to watch her until he gets here?"_

_Louis nodded._

_Niall kissed Crystal’s forehead and looked at him more intently, as if wondering if he was truly serious about watching his kid. Louis nodded harder._

_"Good. We'll finish this conversation later." Sighing loudly, Niall gave him a tiny look of ‘I’m glad to see you again’, grabbed the briefcase on the table and left._

~~

"It’s okay if you don’t wish to share all your personal business,” said the younger man when Louis came back to earth, and Louis looked up at him.

“Is it okay if we make today one of those days?" the younger man asked, putting down the magazine.

Louis riveted his eyes to the tiled floor in forgetfulness of the topic, then when he remembered he said; "I barely know you."

"I don’t know you either," the younger man crooned, his foot pointedly reaching the older man's arse as he flapped his knees like a naughty butterfly, the magazine still in his hands resting on top of his belly. The look he was giving him made Louis want to dive and kiss him.

“I was born on Christmas Eve. I have three kids. That’s all I’m comfortable sharing at the moment.”

"Okay,” the guy seemed to be content with that. “You asked me why I was escorting, but why are you here? It seems to me like you haven't done this sort of thing in a while." He moved his toes to caress his hip. "I just realized we don't even know each other's names."

Louis's eyes dimmed. The last thing he wanted was to know this man's name. Any name that wasn't…Harry. He had already felt so guilty allowing himself this weekend in the first place. But he had to move on. This was him attempting to do just that, but exchanging names? No, that was too much.

"My name is-" the young man started but Louis was quicker. He dived over to the man's side of the bed and kissed him just then. To silence him, and finally taste those lips he had been dying to since he first wheeled into the room. It lasted for such a long moment that Louis did not know whether it was minutes or _tens_ of minutes that passed. He just knew the sweetest thin lips were delicately opened to receive his curious tongue in the most encouraging, passionate, and patient way.

Their lips finally detached, the younger man's forehead resting bashfully on Louis' chest, Louis’ nose now on his hair.

"Did it make the list now?" the younger man said, voice low and hoarse.

"What?" Louis asked, mesmerized by the fresh shampoo seeping into his nostrils.

The young man just sat there with his dimples out again, looking up at him like he was some kind of revolutionary leader or something. "I mean; Is today life-changing enough for you now?"

Louis cracked a smile. "I don't know. It's too soon to tell."

The younger man’s smile suddenly evaporated. "I believe I was about to tell you my name. Maybe it will help with the awkwardness of kissing a stranger and having him ask you if you think he’s special."

"Um...Of course you’re special,” he said. “I just...I think...I don't want to exchange names just yet. I like being anonymous for a while. It feels different- like an adventure."

The young man hit him with a curious look. "A mysterious rendezvous with a stranger is an adventure for you?"

Louis had to laugh at that. "If you wanna describe it like that, yeah." _Wouldn’t be the first time..._

They had a nice dinner, chatting about literature and TV shows and anything else they could find in common. They did not kiss again but as they settled in, the younger man insisted they share the King-sized bed ‘platonically’ he reassured Louis, who had gone crimson on the invitation. They took turns brushing up their teeth with Louis going last.

As he came back out and slid in next to the already sleeping man, Louis saw something lodged in his arms. Angling his head and letting his brain fill out the rest, he concluded that the beat-up thing was none other than a pillow with a smiley face twitter emoji large across it. He deduced that the man had brought it as some kind of comfort thing he couldn’t go faraway places without. For his granddaughter it was her rag doll. She’d cry and get angry whenever it was in the wash and she needed it. So he understood. But instead of endearment, the scene before him (him lying there solemn and safe with his arms around his personal pillow) caused a great dread to rise up in his chest. The color of the item had faded, like he had it for years, probably since childhood, and when he thought about it, that can’t have been too far back. Allowing the reality of just how different they were in age to take over, he slid back off the bed and went to sleep on the mini couch.

*****

**Harry pov**

Harry was all but jumping in the air the next day when the older man suggested they get out of the suite and have a casual lunch downstairs by the pool. Harry thought the state-of-the-art shower sprinklers back in the suite were posh but the bluer than blue pool and sunny canopies over pool chairs and waiters carrying all kinds of pricey colored drinks was sending him in a spiral of anxiety. He wasn't used to all this pampering and fanciness, and was quite reveling in the opportunity to pretend he was rich in his sunglasses and his Hawaiian shirt.

They took a seat at a clear table under an umbrella. The older man went with paella and Harry ordered Alfredo pasta with chives and tomatoes, and they had lemonade on ice.

As they ate, Harry slid his sunglasses up on his head, restraining his loose hair. He looked at the man opposite him while trying to think up how to take this one-sided flirtation to the next level. His eyes almost matched the pool in the background, not as dazzling but a deeper blue, something one could get lost in, like the sky, or the ocean. Ocean eyes. Harry decided to call him Ocean Eyes.

"Look, I know I'm in a hotel with you, and I have no excuse other than yes, I came here to have random sex with a stranger, but this isn’t going to happen,” the older man mumbled over his paella. “That kiss was completely inappropriate. And you shouldn’t be doing this either."

"Not this again," Harry responded to the man's new outburst succumbing to some sort of guilt. The first time he brought it up Harry was quite taken aback but he wouldn't say offended. He really wanted to stay and enjoy the ambiance of the hotel, and since he was there _with_ and only because of the older man in front of him he knew they had to find a way to get along so if he didn’t want to kiss again, fine, but if he insulted his occupation one more time...

"No, wait. Here me out. You said I am your first client, right? Well, I wanna be your last- This isn't going to happen,” -he motioned his index back and forth between them- "but I can't miss this opportunity to talk you out of continuing this line of work. You said your friend wasn't supportive but you have to understand that not all your clients are going to be as nice as me."

Harry rolled his eyes. The older man laughed.

"Look, I know you have dreams. I know you want a life for yourself to be successful and fulfilled, but lad, what you're doing here may not be the way. I picture you more in a suit or something."

"I can make that happen if you request me again," Harry joked.

"Not for me, idiot. For yourself," the older man laughed, not getting it was a joke. "I told you this is not happening. But seriously, you need to reconsider your means of income. I'd hate for this to get to your head and make you so engrossed with it that you forget all about your dreams."

Harry rubbed his elbows and dropped his gaze to his plate in thought. What if the man was right? What if this is a sign that Harry should stop before anything actually happens. He had a point about the fact that there would be some really horrible clients. Harry had thought it before but was going on hope that it wouldn't be too many times he got that kind of client. 

"Do you really think I have potential to finish my studies without doing this?" The wind blew some frizzled hair in his face and he timely raked it back, but it still got caught in some Alfredo sauce at his mouth. He was not aware until the older man reached over and pinched it down the strands, wiping it on his trousers.

"Of course I do.” Something about the older man's disposition had a boyish innocence as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers bashfully, and Harry could not hold back a charmed smile. “Even if it takes you longer, you'd get there. The right way. You don't need to sell your body. That's something special that you save for someone special, lad."

Harry didn't know what was happening but something was rising in his chest and filling his heart with all kinds of rush. He never thought of himself as special. And he sure as hell didn't think anyone else would see him that way. The whole point of him taking this job was to forget about special things and just get college over with so he could do what he really wants to do. Harry didn't care about his body and who might want it in the future...until now.

“Last night you asked me if I thought you were special. I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I didn’t think so. In the future someone else will find you just as special as you find them, and if you take my advice you will be glad you saved yourself for a love like that.”

"And what about you?" he goaded the man. "Did you already meet your someone special or are you still waiting?"

He almost regretted asking, because the sparkle died in the man's eyes just then.

"I'm fifty-one. I’m here only because I’m past the stage for love and its flowery charm. I wanted to see if I can find it back or if it’s gone for good.”

“What if you’re just in time?”

“What is it that you see in me? What makes you even unduly attracted to me?”

“Well," Harry said, resting down his drink on a swallow, "One of my favorite writers once said; _‘What’s wrong with being old at heart, I’d like to know? Wouldn’t you like to be loved by people whose hearts have practiced loving for a long time?’_ ” His fingers found the older man’s hand as he ended the quote. “I would.”

The older man was out of words, he stared into Harry’s eyes as if struggling to fight the conclusion he had to come to- that this thing between them was happening. Harry slid over and closed up the space between them, leaning into him and getting closer to his face, his pleading eyes giving the only answer that mattered. The older man was so taken aback and he bit his lips as Harry drew closer.

"I can't-" the man started but Harry was already pushing his head backward with the force of his lips.

The kiss was slow and sweet as he cupped the older man's chin. He felt his left hand slacken and roam to his hip, lightly brushing over the love handles in his waist. He let out a pleasured moan as the feel of his fingers sent goose bumps up his spine.

Harry's lips moved down to his jaw and started nibbling on it hungrily, making the older man giggle with the tickling sensation. He continued to his neck, leaving wide bites on it and making him moan out loud as he shifted himself to a more comfortable sitting position. The man grabbed his arms and held on as Harry sucked on his neck.

Then suddenly the older let out a word, a name. "Harry..." The man had moaned as Harry swung his head to the other side of his neck to suck him there.

Harry's eyes shot open. "What did you just...?" _Fuck!_ _Did he just call me by my name?_ The heat in his groin intensified as he processed. _How does he know my name? I thought we weren't doing that? Where did he get my name?_

“I’m so sorry.” The man looked like he could die of embarrassment. "It won't happen again."

"But you just-" Harry laughed, about to finish the sentence, but the man put a finger to his lips.

"Please don't be mad. I had a moment. It's not gonna be a thing."

"I'm not mad! I'm just curious as to h-"

"He's someone I used to know- thought I knew- I don't really wanna talk about it,” he muttered quickly. “You and I made a deal we won't call each other anything, and I just broke it and I'm sorry. I won't give you any crazy names again. I won’t kiss you again for that matter."

Harry hung his left hand over his right shoulder and with his right hand caressed the sharp stubs of grey hair at the back of his neck. _He doesn't know my name is Harry. He called me another Harry. An ex?_

"But I like it. It sounds sexy when you say it," Harry grinned feeling happy and stupid at the same time. He never imagined he would hear his name sound so good rolling off someone's tongue.

Harry's smile faded as he watched the man's face dim.

The older man scrambled to his feet, throwing down his napkin and drinking down his wine. "Don't. Don't like it, because it won't happen again." He then stormed off, leaving Harry alone at the table.

Harry was flabbergasted. His Ocean Eyes had a boyfriend named Harry before, and apparently _that_ Harry had broken his heart to a point where he was calling out his name in awkward situations and berating himself for it. 

Suddenly not only did Harry not want the man to know his exact age but he didn't want him to know his name yet, for fear he'd write him off as another bad Harry. Instead he vowed to take the man's mind off the other Harry and give him a reason to give this new Harry a chance.

*

Back in the hotel suite after spending the afternoon taking in the ambiance of the hotel and trying to give his client some space, Harry fell sound asleep while waiting for him to reappear. As he slept he began to dream…

_He is in a small room with soft unpainted walls and earthy decor, that he's somehow been to before. The glass cylinders of underwater mini seaweed plants and a box full of some kind of rock collection is way too familiar to him._

_Through the window he can tell it’s night time as he's hobbled over a bed getting rammed into by someone who feels warm and just as familiar as the room. He is naked from the waist down, and as he looks back he sees it's a ginger haired guy that is pounding into him. A guy he feels close to. A guy he feels safe with and has been intimate with before._

_But this time is different. This time as he bends over on their double-bed, his face pressed into the soft mattress, he is thinking, fantasizing, ...about someone else. He knows it’s wrong to think about them at this time, but he can’t help but grow hotter when he does._

_So he does._

*

**Louis pov**

It was dark when Louis got in. The suite was covered by the dim orange shade of the lamp. The light was supposed to yellow, but the new tint was caused on the shirt Dimples threw on it to make it dark enough to sleep comfortably.

Louis smiled at how eccentric he was. Closing the door as quietly as possible, he sat on the bed and stared at him. He was sound asleep and snoring to boot, making a squeaking sound like those Looney Tunes cartoons when they sleep. A thought appeared in his mind, and he wondered how the man would fare in his world. His busy world. The world he took a break from to spend the weekend with him. He let his smile fade as all the explanations and countless judging eyes crept in like poison damping his beautiful thoughts of the young man being in his life for more than a mere weekend.

"But I want to get to know you..."

*

Louis woke up to a warm breeze tickling his nose. When he opened his eyes he saw it was the young man sound asleep, facing him with his nose an inch away. Rubbing his eyes, Louis backed away until he slid himself off the bed. He was about to stretch when something about the younger man’s face made him stop and stare. Pushing his face back over the bed to see if he was imagining things, he let out a gasp when he saw he was not.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, drawing even closer to the sleeping man’s face. The sun was shooting in like tiny straw holes into the suite granting enough light for Louis to see. Resting below his perfectly indented philtrum was not the pair of thin lips Louis had grown to know over the past day and a half. These were much larger, and more deeply wine colored red. Something must have stung him last night, Louis thought, screwing up his face at it. the lips were parted and looked like they were about to burst, yet the owner of them was on dreamland highway.

He was trying to remember if he had put calamine lotion in his luggage when the man stirred. His lips widened and he started to yawn causing Louis’s eyes to go wide at the sight of the massive orange pegs.

As soon as the younger man opened his eyes and realised he was being watched he let out a scream and flew off the bed clutching his lips.

“Oh no,” the younger man groaned from his deep perch down the side of the bed. “You shouldn’t stare at people. Please tell me you didn’t see that.”

“See what?” Louis suppressed a laugh and pretended he was just surprised by the younger man’s behavior.

“Nothing,” the younger man said, voice hopeful that he was in the clear.

“You know,” Louis stood up straight, looking at the top of the younger man’s head. “You didn’t tell me you were into fillers. I’m into more natural looks.”

He could see the horror in the flinch of the crown of his head. “You saw!”

Louis cackled. “I like when people love themselves enough to age gracefully.”

The younger man let out a long growl from his blown-up hand covered lips but didn’t surface.

Louis' eyes cut to the draped lamp decor. “So that’s why you threw the shirt on the lamp,” he declared, a wide grin as he stepped toward it. he pulled it down and without looking at the younger man he held it at him.

The younger man took it and tied it around his face. “This is so embarrassing,” he moaned, finally standing and dashing to the bathroom. “I can’t be seen like this.”

It was Sunday, their last day at the hotel and although Louis had originally been planning for another relaxing day at the poolside, if the man would rather sit it out, he wouldn’t mind keeping him company indoors.

“It’s because I kissed your paella mouth yesterday. The shellfish did it.”

Louis began laughing at the younger man’s reflection from behind him and he poured on a sullen face that looked like a stray puppy and even cuter with the inflated lips.

“Okay, I’m gonna call room service,” Louis declared, marching out of the bathroom. “Gotta do something about those jumbo shrimps.”

“Jumbo shrimps?” the younger man asked, following him out and slumping on the bed. “You’re not gonna complain about the food are you?” His eyes then popped when he realized Louis was referring to his lips. “You sonofa-,”

Louis giggled and winked at him like ‘I’ve got this’ while dialing with the receiver between his ear and shoulder.

“Yes hello, room service. I’d like an ice pack and a hot chicken soup at room twenty-eight please, along with a poached egg, subway sandwich, chamomile tea, and box of Lindor’s orange truffles.”

Fifteen minutes later when the food arrived, Louis uncapped the soup first and brought it to the younger man on the bed. He then grabbed the truffle box and brought it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Ooh, chocolate.”

“Oh, no. I ordered you soup. This is for me.”

The younger man pouted. Louis had to snort at the way it made the swelling look even larger. He then dug around his luggage and pulled out a small bottle of aloe Vera lotion.

“While the soup is cooling we can try to bring down the swelling,” he said in a low, soothing voice as he squeezed some out and carefully dotted it on the younger man’s lips. The younger man sat forward obediently, the overnight glistening of his skin now illuminating in the sunlight and making the skin on the other parts of his face look radiant and honey-like.

Louis then spooned some soup with a carrot slice in it and fed it to him slowly. He had to look away when the younger man blew on it to cool it before eating. The entrancing sight of that sent unwanted expletives racing through his sub-conscience.

"Good?"

“It's not bad, but I can make a better soup. It's missing that home flavor,” the young _Adonis_ said, and suddenly Louis wanted to taste his cooking.

*****

**Harry pov**

"Where would you most like to visit in the world?" the older man asked after a movie on the little TV. It was now afternoon and after intermittently applying ice and lotion, Harry’s lips were slowly shrinking back to normal.

Harry frowned curiously. "Funny...that's one of the questions in the magazine quiz."

The older man grinned, wielding his _Lindors'._ "Really?" he opened it and ate one.

Harry eyed him with a coquettish grin as he popped it in his mouth and wrung back the wrapper. "I didn't know you were a magazine person."

The strangest feeling left him on edge as he witnessed the older man's teasing face. He figured it must have less to do with the older man and more to do with the strange dream he had last night, since the feeling consisted of him placing the man as the one he was think-cheating about in the dream.

"Looks are deceiving," the older man smirked. "So, where?"

"Um...Rome," Harry snorted. "Are you gonna share?”

"Hmm." The older man pursed his lips, trying not to internally combust at the mention of Rome. "Jamaica for me. And no, this is bad for frog lips."

Harry rolled his eyes then said, "Jamaica?"

"Yep. I want to visit the beautiful beaches on TV."

Harry gave an accepting face. "I’m not a beach person,” he said looking into the man’s eyes and rethinking that statement. “That’s part of why I like Rome. I've never been but I dream of going there. I’ve always wanted to see it and put a coin in the fountain. I'm afraid of the ocean and any other large body of water. Since I was a baby. I don't know why."

“What’s that?” asked the older man suddenly, pointing at the window.

Harry looked where he had gestured and felt something scratchy in the neck of his sweater. “Hey, no fair.” He pulled out the truffle wrapper and threw it at the chuckling older man.

"I used to live in Rome when I was younger." The older man watched his eyes go wide at this coincidental news. “There’s a beach just outside the city. It's a beautiful place."

Harry's face lit up like a bulb. “Why did you ever leave?”

“I missed my mother.” Another truffle wrapper untwisted. Another truffle popped in his greedy mouth.

Harry dug his hand at the box but didn’t get one. “I’d visit the fountain but I'd probably stay away from the beach if I ever go.”

The older man took a truffle from behind his back and opened it. Harry was sure he was going to eat it but then his hand came and hung close to Harry’s mouth. Harry opened his mouth and leaned back and felt the bursting taste of chocolate and oranges take over his mouth.

The older man then smoothed Harry’s cheek. "You remind me of the flower gardens there. And the sea breezes."

Harry nodded intently, shocked at the sudden gesture. "I wanna visit that building with the angel on it by the river that runs through the city."

"Castel Sant’Angelo?" the older man swallowed hard, feeling bile creeping up, threatening his sweet tooth.

"Yeah. That's it. I don't know why I keep forgetting the name of it.” Harry paused, running his fingers gingerly over his swollen lips. “You know how there are some places you just feel connected to even if you’ve never been and it’s like you know you’ll like it? That’s Rome for me. I once did a dissertation _on The Eagle in the Snow_ for homework."

The older man smiled. "You're into Literature. Good choice."

"Yeah, I was a Lit tutor in senior high. I studied ancient Rome extracurricular, which is why it's weird that particular building is the only one I keep forgetting." 

The older man was impressed. "You are young and your dreams are as big as the ocean. You never know where life could take you. You can see many beautiful places.” He hesitated a moment before saying. “Promise me you'll do what makes you happy in life."

"I promise," Harry said, resting his chin on his shoulder. The older man lifted his head and connected their foreheads. Closing his eyes, Harry felt so much heat in the touch that he wanted to hyperventilate. He felt the urge to tell him the first thing that would make him happy.

"I want to get to know you too," he said after a pause, making the older man look at him.

"You heard that?" he asked flushed.

"Yeah.” Harry let out a sheepish laugh hoping the man understood he had been pretending to be sleeping so he wouldn’t see his lips.

"Then let's...should we tell each other our names now?" the older man asked, enthusiasm creeping into his voice.

"No! I mean, we should wait. We don't want to jinx it." Harry laughed it off. "I was thinking we should leave it for another time. Start a fresh introduction. I'm rather enjoying the mystery right now." There was absolutely no way he was going to tell the man his name now and risk him getting turned off before he could show him what he had to offer as a person. “How about we tell each other stuff about ourselves in the meantime.”

“That sounds like fun. What- like do you snore? Because I think I already know that.”

Harry giggled and shoved him and stole the truffle box. the older man watched him pick one out, unwrap it and pop it in his fish lips. The sequence looked more sexy than funny. “Hey. No I mean like okay I’ll go first- I’m an only child, I knew I wanted to go into editing when I was eight and my teacher commended me for summarizing twenty thousand leagues under the sea, I’m allergic to shellfish,”- ‘ _Really? I didn’t notice,”_ the older man joked and Harry chortled _-_ “and my middle name is Edward, after _Edward the Great_ but I like to tell people it’s _Edward Scissors Hands_.” Harry finished with a heavy breath and was stunned to see the older man was looking down, shoulders bouncing as he snickered.

“You realize you just told me your name, right?”

Harry gulped. “It’s only my middle name, I promise.”

The older man smiled, taking his word for it.

“Scissors hands, huh?” the older man teased. Harry shoved him again making him laugh harder. “Okay, okay. That’s good. Um I went to the top high school in the country and was set for Yale but I ran away from home and went to Rome where I lived for a number of years like I told you.”

“You ran away from your parents?”

“Yeah. My dad wanted me to be someone I wasn’t and I wanted to go on an adventure.”

“Wow. Well, you sure did if you ended up in Rome.”

“Yep. Your turn again,” the older man said as Harry handed him back the truffle box.

“Um.” Harry didn’t have much to tell apart from his parents and ex boyfriends but he really didn’t want to tell him about his dumb life. So he told him some more about his childhood. “When I was in primary school there was this dance. A costume themed one and they wanted us to dress up as stars. Like celebrities. But I didn’t know that and I showed up dressed as an actual star."

The older man’s mouth was a wide gap. “This from the guy who did a whole dissertation on a classic novel? I’m insulted!”

“My mum did the sewing. Used pillow stuffing.”

“Did she make the thing you keep hiding under the bed too?”

Harry’s face shaped quizzically.

The older man hung his upper half off the bed to pull out an old ragged pillow. Harry screeched.

“My pillowey,” he grabbed the thing. “How did you find out?”

The older man roared with laughter. “ _Pillowey?”_

“It’s a portmanteau of pillow and smiley. See? It’s a smiley face.” Harry brandished the thing proudly now.

The older man let his cackles die down. “Your blanket falls away when you sleep.”

Harry clutched it so tight, crimson splotches dotting his face as he could no longer look at him.

“I’m still shocked about the stuffed star to be honest,” the older man said, hoping to alleviate the man’s embarrassment.

Harry’s face lightened. “I guess you weren’t the only awkward kid growing up.”

“I never said I was awkward.”

“You didn’t say you had friends,” he referred to one of their earlier conversations.

“I didn’t say I don’t.”

“Okay, Mr Popular. How many friends did you have?”

“A few, but only one really great friend.”

“Tell me about them.”

The older did not reply. He simpered, and with a dilated look in his eyes, he leaned forward with a strong air of resolve, kissing Harry again on his ballooned lips and taking his breath away. 

Harry let him move slower and deeper, moaning softly and pressing his tongue in while gently holding the man’s jawline. The man licked back and Harry giggled, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him on top of him on the bed. They smiled at each other before falling into a kiss again where the older man was mindful not to rest his weight on him. Harry opted to be content with the minimum contact, feeling his sheltered presence like a canopy.

*

Freshly showered, in a thick hotel robe over his sleepwear, Harry smiled at the man having a cup of cocoa on the floor with marshmallows in it. In his slacks and a grey medium-sized T-shirt Harry just couldn’t wait to snuggle up to, the older man looked up and let loose a broad smile.

They had chatted all afternoon and Harry had told him his parents got him the pillow when he was six and for some reason he never shook it off. The man was gracious about it and said he pulled it out but because he didn’t want Harry to spend the whole day feeling down about his lips and be ashamed to cuddle with it in front of him. That made Harry feel so comfortable. Hunter hated that pillow. He would throw it out the bedroom window and into the back yard any time he was in a bad mood and it crossed his path. That’s why it was so faded- the many times he made Harry have to wash it out. Harry didn’t bring the pillow as a test of any kind but he figured it was a deal breaker for most and was glad this man didn’t mind it.

He had no idea why he felt so relaxed with the older man. He even got a few good nights’ sleep alone in a room with this practical stranger. Harry’s mind pelted back to the dream he had last night. It was weird. He doesn’t remember ever sleeping with the face in the dream. It was strange he was with that person yet his senses had been extremely aware of the man in front of him now.

Shrugging it off as probably his nerves about his new job taking the form of a dream and maybe imagining some made up guy who could have been one of his clients and him feeling like they should all be like Ocean Eyes- tender and chivalrous.

The silence was dominant now with little clanking of spoons on cups as Harry took a sip of his own cocoa in sync with the man. His lips were significantly reduced and he felt a bit normal again now. Normal enough to notice the quiet sighs and subtle agitation coming from the other man. Harry understood what it was. It was their last night at the hotel. Tomorrow they both go back to their lives.

"How old are you?” the older man asked into the silence, sad eyes brimming with hope. “I know you said you were in your early twenties- and even mid-twenties is too young for me but It'd be nice to know so I can convince myself that I need to put an end to this now."

Knowing how paranoid the man was with their age gap and not wanting him to freak out even more hearing the actual number, Harry took his hand and intertwined his sweaty fingers in his. 

_“‘What age would you be if you didn’t know your age...?’_ To answer that, I’d probably be in my forties.” He smiled for a laugh but the older man sighed and hit him a look as if to say 'not this time.' 

Harry took a deep breath of surrender. “I'm twenty-three," he admitted as quiet as a whisper, caressing the back of the man's hand with his fingers. His heart felt so many things over the weekend but dread was quickly becoming one of them.

Confirming his fears, the older man grew downtrodden, curved lips with drawn-together brows. Despising the hopelessness in the man's eyes, Harry gripped on tighter.

"I'm twenty-three, and so enticed right now," he stated breathily. "I’ve never felt like other people my age. While everyone was out partying I was always skimming through libraries looking for the oldest book to research. I’ve only ever dated older guys,” he went on, hoping to attenuate the imminent let down. “I don't want to end this. I have so much more to offer in spite of my age. Please give this a chance."

The older man's hand started squeezing Harry's so tight like he was trying to melt them together for fear of letting go. Harry started crying but only because he felt like this was it, like the man was truly about to end things.

The man then brought their intertwined hands up to meet the underside of his chin for it to rest on them. He looked up at Harry with red, tear-splashed eyes. "I can't deny what I feel but it's just... It can't be right.” He then let go of Harry’s hand as though he were ripping his own flesh away from his bones. The act left Harry hollow and abandoned. “I can’t get involved with a twenty-three-year-old. I don’t even know why it mattered to ask; I can’t get involved with you no matter where in your twenties you are."

Tears falling down from his eyes, Harry got to his feet. His back now to the man, he cried harder. He swiped his hair behind his ears and let the tears accompany his aching heart. 

"Why does this always happen to me?" he wailed. "Why do I always have to throw myself out there and-" he tossed his hands out. But his rant was interrupted.

It happened in such a flash that Harry barely knew it until it was well underway. The older man slid over, turning him back around and shutting him up with a rough kiss. He moved Harry straight over to the wall, against where he continued to kiss the living daylights out of him. Their heads moved from left to right, slow, fast, in passion, and Harry grabbed on to the sides of the man’s face to try for more closeness, which was impossible now. It took a good few movements of deeply administered kisses before the older man pulled away. 

Caressing Harry's cheek and around his ear, he asked, “Forties, huh? Forty-what?”

His eyes were so cute and honest, and Harry did not mistake the fear in them that played with hope. Wrapping his thoughts together, he skidded his hands around his neck.

“Forty-seven.”

“That’s four years younger than me.”

Harry giggled, seeing the twinkle in his eye at their little game. “That’s too much?”

“No, it’s perfect. I’m older than you by enough to explain why I’m so much smarter.”

Harry barely had time to protest as the man’s lips were on his neck now, pressing light kisses there.

Harry's hands then found themselves lowering to the man’s belt buckle.

The man stopped him. 

"I can't,” he blurted out, backing away from Harry. “I won't do this here. I'm not gonna do that to you." 

Harry shoved his hand away to try again. "It's okay. We can do this. We can pretend we're somewhere else."

The older man backed away a meter. "We'd still be two people in a hotel room who barely know each other, having sexual relations with money involved."

"I don't want your money,” Harry said with quick defense. “I want _you_.” He was so aroused he could scream. But he knew that would look so childish and probably scare the older man away, so he tried his best to contain himself.

The older man drew in again and held his face gently. "How about we do this the right way. How about we go on a date. We can meet somewhere random like a park bench or a bus stop.” He let go and took Harry’s hand, playing with his fingers.

Harry's crotch burned and he could feel the heat of the man's member this close to him as well but he wasn't about to push his luck. "That sounds wonderful. Let's meet at the bus stop."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But only one condition. When we meet, we go to a movie or something, and then when it's over we formally introduce ourselves to each other."

The older man smoothed the curls on his shoulder, fingers trailing along the skin down to his elbow. "Absolutely. It's a plan."

"Wait- It's not a plan until we set a date, place, and time."

"Okay, what are your thoughts?"

Harry pondered it. "How about we meet at the Broadway bus stop, and then go to a movie from there. I feel like we already talked so much over food already that a movie would be a little more intimate, right?"

"You're on to something. Okay, we can do that...how about this Saturday? At say...three pm?"

"We should exchange numbers..."

"No! My um... _housekeeper_ answers, and she'll give away my name if you call, so no numbers."

"Alright," Harry laughed. "Then take my number."

"Not a good idea,” the man said again. “What if you don't know who's calling and you go _‘So-by-so here...!_ ’?”

Harry gave a slight nod. _Boy, he really doesn't want to talk to me on the phone._

The older man went on. "Let's just whimsically meet like in the fifties when people barely even used landlines."

Harry laughed, thinking it funny that the man had no idea he already knew his name...

Harry stuck out his iced pinky. "Okay, let's seal it. Deal?"

"Deal," the older man said, a little giggle escaping as he stretched his finger and hooked it to Harry's.

*

"Yeah, but _fifty-one?_ You know your track record with older men."

Harry drooped his shoulders. He had only dated two men. For three years starting when he was sixteen it had been Hunter, who grew up next door. Two years older than Harry, he was irascible, verbally abusive, and forceful in bed. And then there was Ben, his college professor a few weeks after the breakup. The man was in his forties but Harry had always had a thing for older intelligent men. The sex was crazy but it ended badly when Harry had found out the man was married. That experience had then left Harry feeling like rubbish. Not only because he had been lied to, but also because he had unknowingly contributed to breaking the heart of the man's wife. It took Harry a while to forgive himself. He tried dating after that but it didn't take off in any way, and to make matters worse he still had to see the man in class and listen to his damn lectures. 

It was during one such class Harry met his best friend, Zayn. He had been buried in his text book pretending to be reading so he wouldn't have to actually look at _Professor Bastard_ when he got hit in the face with a crumpled piece of paper. He had looked around and saw the guy with his hands clasped to his mouth with an "I'm so sorry" face. Curiously he opened the paper and read it.

_"I've been looking at you for the past eight weeks I’ve been here and I could drown in your blue eyes. You're so pretty I can't help myself, will you please for the love of god do me the honor of blowing me in the bathroom at break?"_

And... what?

Harry had crumpled back up the paper and thrown the guy a squinted eye but the obviously flushed guy was now facing front and fully immersed in the lecture. Harry held the paper until the class was over, and then as he gathered all his books to leave, a neat little tanned red-haired guy with dozens of freckles bent down to his ear. 

"I'd be careful if I were you,” the guy said, “Been trying to get him off my back for weeks now. Keep telling him I'm not gay but it's just not clicking." The guy's eyes were a sparkly beachy-blue and Harry suddenly got it. The letter was meant for this guy, who was sitting right behind him the whole time.

So as that guy walked away and Zayn came up to offer a slew of apologies, Harry's previous worries and thoughts about the professor had started being slowly replaced by an actual life with an actual friend. One that was always protective of him but was slowly getting on his nerves now.

Harry spread out all the best parts of his closet on the bed and tore off his shirt. His big date with the man of his dreams was in a few days and he was still stomped on what to wear. He didn’t want to look too colorful or too boring. Too fun or too nerdy. He wanted to look perfectly appropriate next to a seasoned, classy man.

 _Classy!_ He needed a classy look.

He dived to the dorm closet he and Zayn shared. The boy let out a whining sound, laying sideways, cross-legged on the edge of the bed, quickly getting pushed out by stuff Harry hadn’t worn in a while, or at all. At any other time, Harry would be grateful for him looking out for him or but he had no time for an argument. Right now he had to find a remotely _classy_ shirt.

“People that age do stuff like that because they are going through a midlife crisis.”

"Oh, come on, Zayn. You know I've always had a thing for older men. Should have seen him, he’s ripped, he's cute, and plus older men can be such gentlemen,” - Zayn raised a quizzical brow- “At least _this_ one is a gentleman."

"What's _Mister Granddad's_ name!?"

"Well that's the thing, we didn't exchange names. We wanted to remain mysterious until we met up next weekend. Pretty romantic isn't it?"

"Romantic? Try _mental._ What if he had stuck you with the bill? How were you going to tell management who he was?”

Harry laughed.

"It could be a rich guy who shows up in a limo, or a poor guy who jumps out of the bus to meet you," warned Zayn.

"It doesn't matter. I already made up my mind, I want to get to know him better. Although I feel like I already do." Harry tilted his head with a smile at the mirror as he held up an orange sweater. Zayn made a face and Harry tossed it on the floor.

"You gonna go out with a dirt poor guy then?"

Harry sighed with a head shake. “You should meet him. He's respectful and respectable and so, _so_ funny. Meeting him again has me so nervous."

"How do you know he's not a serial killer?"

"We spent the entire weekend alone in a hotel room. I think if he wanted to kill me, I'd be in the mini fridge as we speak."

Turning on his back, Zayn pulled a black sweatshirt from the pile and checked it out, a precarious look on his face.

“Maybe he was waiting to get you in some dark alleyway.”

“You had to be there, Zayn,” Harry scoffed, deciding on a wine red turtleneck and quickly sliding it on. “He was so nice and attentive, and we had so much fun. He wasn’t even freaked out by my pillowey.”

“You took that thing to the hotel?” Zayn was about to burst out in laughter.

“Yeah, you know I can’t go anywhere without it. I freaked out when he saw it but he said it was fine and let me nap with it- How does this look?"

Zayn angled his head to see. "Cute. Not too slutty, not too goofy."

Harry side-eyed him.

"Okay,” Zayn got up to his feet. “I can see this is a big deal to you, so I have the feeling we are gonna have to go beyond the confines of your closet.” 

“You're taking me shopping?” Harry asked, relieved.

“Yeah, I think your wardrobe doesn’t quite scream high end hooker.”

Harry cackled. "I know. I’m still trying to figure this out. Must be why I had the strangest dream at the hotel." 

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was sleeping with this _guy_ but he was so familiar. He was pudgy with this comforting smell but it was so awkward I can't even explain.”

"Probably just nerves from your new profession and all. All those strange guys you're gonna have to see…"

"That's what I thought, but it was so peculiar. Felt like it was really happening.”

*

Twisting the empty mint wrapper and shoving it into the new pocket of the bottle green cardigan Zayn told him went with his eyes, Harry shifted on the bench at Broadway bus stop London. He sucked hard on the peppermint, making clicking noises as it knocked against his teeth. Another hour passed and he still hadn't come. He started to think maybe he should have tied his hair back after all. He quickly grabbed it all back and made a plait thinking it would help anything... thinking it would make his dream guy come any sooner. 

He picked a flyaway hair off his chest and sighed looking around. Less people were on the street now and it felt eerily late as the sun's rays had reached a dark orange color with blue grey shadows on the sides of the buildings. 

He checked his watch and sighed again. Two hours late _. Maybe he has a good excuse. He'll tell me when he gets here._

Harry leaned back and folded his arms reflecting on the last few months. It all started when he and Zayn were at a frat party. One of their peers slapped them with escort business cards and Harry thought it was funny. But as the days progressed he thought- why the hell not? His mother was a cashier and his dad a delivery man, and he . If his two attempts at relationships ended with him feeling like trash, then why not just sleep around and get paid for it? Zayn was stupefied Harry would even consider this, and they argued. Harry stressed he wanted nothing to do with relationships at the moment but did need the money, so there, Zayn had no choice but to accept it. He promised to be there for Harry always and that's all that.

But Ocean Eyes had gotten through to him. Harry had already called the agency and quit. 

Six pm, and Harry was done. Vagrants had already started dragging their cardboard boxes into dark creepy alleyways nearby and people were now crawling out from the movie theater not far away. 

Harry heard a giant engine halt as the bus stopped to disgorge a couple of passengers and he jumped off the bench. The bus never brought so much relief as it did now. Still he climbed in with hesitation. Taking a window seat, he looked out at the street to make sure Ocean Eyes wasn’t showing up and out there alone missing him by a few minutes. A deep sadness overtook him as the bus drove off, and he turned to see an old lady sitting next to him chewing a pack of nuts. He pulled his coat over himself and took out the beanie from the pocket. 

The noise of the bus engine was harsh against the pain going on inside him, and it laughingly drove reality into his wounds. The six pm bus. He waited from three pm to six pm for someone. _He stood me up._ His glands burned a sickeningly sharp saltiness behind his eyes and he wanted to release it. He pulled his beanie down around his ears and over his eyes and let some of it out. They say third time's the charm but it fucking isn’t, is it? It's more _like 'fool me once it's on you, fool me twice that’s on me, and fool me three times, Love, and I'm just a dumb ass...’_

*


	3. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this is where the story time setting takes off.  
> Warning- injury triggers.(so sorry for this)  
> Please I need as much kudos and comments as possible on this so hit it if you are enjoying the story!!!

**_'It's_** **_the rule of life that everything you’ve always wanted comes at the very second you stop looking for it'~ Sex and the City_ **

**2020- Present day**

“Today!?” Harry shot an eye at the clock on the side table of his room. It was almost ten in the morning and he was woken up by the call. Dressed in a pair of boxers and a used-to-be-purple T-shirt, he threw the pillow off his lap and jumped out of his single bed, fully alerted to the person on the line.

“Oh no, it’s not that at all, I’d be happy to start today,” he furrowed his brows deliberately as he listened intently to the secretary on the line. Just two days ago he had interviewed for an editing job at one of the biggest cosmopolitan magazine companies in England _, IColorture_ magazine _-_ pronounced like _‘I_ _culture’._ The job was an entry level assistant but he was happy to have the opportunity to work his way up to full-time editor, or maybe even chief. He loved the magazine, often reading about the different cultural traditions of peoples around the world, and filling out the crosswords and partaking in the quizzes. It was funny he only discovered the magazine about three years ago, a gem out of a bad experience.

Well, it wasn’t all that bad, he had spent a weekend in a hotel with the man of his dreams, reading magazines and chatting about their lives to pass the time, falling in love only to get stood up by the man whose name he didn’t even get. It sounds absurd but Harry’s inability to get intimate with anyone after the experience would disagree. A positive to come out of it was the magazine he bonded with the man over had stuck with him, forcing him to turn back at stands and purchase each monthly issue. His love of the pages had sparked a desire to apply for a job there. And so here he was in his living room about to embark on the career he always wanted as an editorial assistant. Some would call it the Nova effect, but Harry called it moving on.

_'At first I was afraid, I was petrified,_

_Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side...'_

As soon as the call was over he put his Spotify on and dashed to the closet, racking out every decent pair of trousers he owned.

He looked in the mirror and frowned. The tawny lines in his face and the dark shade below his eyes took him back to the wee hours of the morning when he had shot out of bed, woken up from another dream. He had been having these weird, insanely real dreams for three years now and they had gotten even more intense after his job interview a few days ago. He reckoned it was anxiety at getting the job he always wanted. Each dream was so unique. In this one, he was a small red-breasted bird soaring in the midst of a new flock. It felt free. It was funny to him how random dreams about the weirdest things can feel so real. Even more so than being actually awake.

_'...And so, you're back,_

_From outer space,_

_I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face...'_

Harry shoved his legs in a pair of unpressed mint green ones and screwed up his face. Off with that one. He had moved back in with his parents after he finished his degree last year. He still met up with Zayn from time to time as he was a busy engineer now.

_'I should have changed that stupid lock; I should have made you leave your key,_

_If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me,'_

He swung scandalously side to side to the lyrics. Then dashed back to the closet to try on an actual suit.

_'Did you think I'd lay down and die?_

_Oh no, not I, I will survive_

_Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive_

_I've got all my life to live...’_

Harry shimmied to the mirror and took a wild spin checking his features in the lighting. “Perfect.”

_'Hey! Hey!'_

*

Harry was super nervous as he stepped out of the taxi in front of the mirrored glass skyscraper headquarters. His first day on the job. He had a new haircut, tailored suit, and that neat pin striped tie his Mum sent him. But he was tapping the socks out of his new polished shoes as he paused. Pep-talking himself to hold it together, he ventured in.

Waxed canvas laptop messenger bag dangling like a vexed child in hand, he lightly tapped his feet across the dark marble of the lobby in a pace that echoed his rapid heart. With a wide step, he reached the main desk and blurted out his business there.

"Hello! Welcome to _IColorture_ Magazine,” the receptionist said, sounding like an exotic destination travel commercial. “If you'll allow me to give you directions; It's eight floors up, second door to your right."

Harry gave a friendly nod and was on his way up in the elevator. His nerves began to rack him; the only time he had been in this building or any other corporate building like this was for the interview a few weeks ago, and his experience was limited to practice tests at an exam he took to acquire the qualifications to be here in the first place; nevertheless, he stepped off the elevator ready to be put to work as an editorial assistant.

The large icy white space was scattered with well-dressed workers and computers and smelled like paper glue and that fresh magazine smell, just like the new copies he bought off the stands, only heightened times ten. It sent euphoria through his nasal passages, escalating his nerves.

He walked up to another desk where sat a neat Asian girl with a top knot and heavy bangs that were tapered down the sides of her face. He remembered the fashionista from a few weeks ago.

"Hi, I'm Harry Styles," he said juicily, trying not to squeeze his bag strap too tight. "I'm supposed to start work today?"

"Oh! Mr Styles," the young woman gave him a half-glance, patting her palms crazily over her mess of a desk.

"Here you go," she said, snapping up with a book in hand. She handed it to him. “Sign your name here and then go in- there.” She pointed at a see-through office about five feet away with open blinders showing a tall potted flower on an iron locker case inside. 

Taking it, he then lifted his chin to the girl for a pen. Catching it, she lowered her head, arms lifted in the air to think where she put it.

"Oh, it's okay," Harry said, digging into his bag and pulling out his own to sign. 

He nervously moved toward the office and spotted two blondes, who had to be related, having a heated discussion. He recognized the female, who looked about his age, as the one who had interviewed him. The younger male with a Harvard clip haircut, his feet crossed on her desk, struck Harry as the _bratty_ one.

"He has to let me be in charge of something around here!" the younger male blond complained, confirming the brash attitude.

"Daddy doesn't have one good reason to take you seriously. You've literally never had any interest in the company. And it'll be a miracle if you get through college with enough credentials to run a fraction of this empire!"

"Um, hello?" Harry said, finally knocking on the open door and making both jump. "I'm sorry to interrupt. "I'm Harry Styles. It's my first day? They sent me in here."

The young woman, with generous hips wrapped around an otherwise neat figure, seemed to remember him and raised her palm and clasped it shut twice signalling him to wait, before going back to her conversation with the young man.

The guy blond however was already fixing Harry a nice scowl. He took a quick look at the clock. "It's almost twelve. Why are you so late?"

"Um, they called a while ago and asked me to -"

The blonde batted her hand in the air to stop Harry from finishing the sentence. "Let my secretary, Alice show you the routine."

Hey looked to where she pointed and saw the same girl who just directed him to the office at her desk- which was invisible with the amount of paperwork- seeming to have lost something important again. He blinked wondering if it was always this hectic and disorganized.

He walked up to her once more and smiled.

"She sent you back, didn't she?"

Harry nodded slowly. "She did send... Me. Back."

She got up, dragging a few sheets of paper with her. "That's Dianna You'll be working under her. She's the creative director of the mag but she's not the big boss. His office is down the hall. We're actually having a party for him today- It's sort of his birthday."

_Sort of?_

"-Which leads me to your first task of the day; You can pick up some balloons while you're out at lunch," she handed Harry some change and glanced at her watch - "which starts now." Caught off guard, he took it along with a pamphlet of employee rules and regulations.

Suddenly being completely ignored by the girl as she went back to her desk and started battling her keyboard, he quickly shimmied off to the elevator and got in. _Wait- did she want them blown, or?_ He had no time to backtrack because the elevator was moving now.

On the first floor, pushing the glass double door open as he exited the building, he slung his messenger strap over his left shoulder, letting it hang over his right hip, and combed his fingers through his hair as he waited to cross the street. He calculated he'd have a quick lunch at the deli then go to the events/parties shop not too far from there and get some blown ones. He doubted the staff had much time for decorating before this boss arrived. Harry hoped he wasn't too intimidating. Harry skipped at the thought that he was now _part of_ the staff.

As soon as the stop light signaled and the road was clear, he quickly crossed and headed to the deli. He placed his order and sat at a table close to the counter, and dug around in his bag for his pamphlet.

*

**Louis pov**

_Ring!! Ring!!_

He smiled like the sun. He was expecting the call since the moment he arose that morning. Instead he had to deal with his step-daughter's banana pancakes at breakfast first thing on the special day. And by pancakes- one side of them really didn't want to leave the pan. And there was something ghastly wrong with the banana as well, like they were oxidizing, _or dying._

"You don't peel them until you're ready to use them," he had told her while making an Oscar worthy chew that morning.

Her brother, on the other hand, had let his sister have it. "You trying to feed us or make a burned offering to the gods!?" -Which earned him a slap behind the skull from her.

So Louis was about to pick up a real breakfast- or lunch by now-at his favorite delicatessen.

"Happy birthday, Uncle Louis." The woman on the line sounded slightly hoarse. 

"It's not my birthday yet, Crystal. It's your Dad's,” Louis breathed a silent laugh into the phone as the chauffeur opened the door of the limo. He took one step down in his _Salvatore Ferragamo_ shoes and climbed out, leaving his matching suitcase behind.

"I know but you celebrate it more than your own! Might as well be yours."

"Yeah....But I'm still old even though it's only five months till Christmas Eve.”

Crystal mused. “You were officially old the minute Nailee Grace was born.”

“I know. That's when I became a granddad," Louis replied fondly, carefully stepping up on the sidewalk.

"You're a Great uncle! There's a difference,” he heard a little voice yell in the background.

Louis protested. "Yeah, Nay, Great uncle sounds so much older now."

Nailee chuckled in the receiver. "What are you having for Grandpa Niall this time? Mariachi band?"

"Ha. Ha. Okay, I'm gonna make myself late as usual,” he grinned into the phone as he approached the delicatessen entrance. “Will I see you guys there?”

Crystal regained control of the phone. "Sorry, I have a cold that came out of nowhere."

Louis' brow darkened on hearing that. "I’ll come visit later, okay, Sweety? Bring you two some soup from the restaurant.”

He clasped the door handle of the delicatessen. 

*

**Harry pov**

Harry took one glance up as the chime alert over the deli door sounded and nearly yawped. Pushing open the door was the last person he thought he'd ever see again. In a three-piece suit under a flowing Burberry coat that looked more expensive than Harry’s rent, he had the same magnificently dignified features, the same preternaturally blue eyes- ocean eyes.

Coming up to the counter, he had not seen Harry yet as he was pressing keys on his cell phone with a little smile, and tucking it in his coat pocket. Harry took a quick note; he wore black leather gloves, and his shoes were so polished that if Harry were to tilt he could see his reflection in them.

A lady in front of him collected her coffees and turned to leave, and the man finally looked up. Harry shot to his feet and froze. His aim was to dive for the bathroom before the man saw him but his legs did not let him, and then it was too late as their eyes met.

The man's eyes went wide and they moved subtly as if trying to figure out if he had just fallen down a rabbit hole. The cashier began to speak in her high-pitched, courteous voice, and the man became caught up in quickly placing his order- a coffee, two sugars, and a large scone, Harry noted.

He took his items and said his thank yous, stepping out of the line to stand directly in front of Harry.

Sharp, stubble-shaven jawline juxtaposing an incredible eyebrow arch, the man looked not a day older than the last time Harry saw him. The man broached the counter and is hair was in the same moussed blowout, with dark grey streaks that randomly sat in the perfect places to accentuate that classic look that had attracted Harry the first time they met.

"Hi," the man said, catching his breath, wide eyes plastered on Harry.

"Um, how are you?" blabbed Harry, taking in his appearance closer. Harry got the sense he must be a stock broker or have some other six-digit job, partially judging from now and the lavish hotel experience he sponsored three years ago.

"I'm gr- good, I'm good," the man stuttered, dilated eyes latched on Harry. "Um, well, how are _you_?"

His eyes flashed over Harry’s whole appearance and Harry realized they were both in suits and that the man must be wondering about him too. Harry made a mental check of himself; he got a short comb-over, pretty descent work clothes- a formal, really masculine look going on compared to the last time the man saw him.

"Oh! I'm-ah- I got a job! It's my first day - actually," he replied, smiling broadly, gesturing a proud thumb to his outfit. As soon as he said it he realized how stupid it sounded. After all it was not the first job he landed since their last meeting. It had been a while since he saw the man who had no idea he inspired Harry to get a different job waiting tables at a diner across town where he had been for the two remaining years of college where he got the credentials to apply for the job he just now secured. Now Harry realized he sounded like he had been sitting on his arse for three years until today.

"Oh, wow! Good for you," the man barely managed. Harry noticed he was fiddling with his cup, and felt a tiny bit not alone in the nervous department. He could see the effort it was taking him to breathe and somehow it proved contagious as he was hyperventilating too.

Harry remembered suddenly that he didn’t have his name, and wanted to ask it just then, but the words refused to come out. Going down the name road was too much too soon after seeing the man after so long, which was ironic because who spends a whole weekend with someone and not exchange names and then finally get the chance to and not take it immediately?

Harry didn’t let his brain answer that. Instead he opted to just spill the question, but as soon as he inhaled to do so, the man spoke.

"Goo-Good luck on-your first day," he said, gesturing his coffee-filled hand before looking out the windows. _For an escape?_

"Oh, I'm late!" the man looked at his wrist, although Harry only glanced the band of the silver watch, the face partially hidden under his jacket sleeve. "Nice to see you again...um..." he said conversation-y, flapping a finger at him, and Harry remembered the man also still didn't know _his_ name.

Harry opened his mouth to give it but the man’s back was already turned to him as he gave the quick shadow of a ‘have a nice day’ and zoomed out of the deli.

Shocked at the man’s sudden dash for freedom, Harry's eyes followed him as he walked off the pavement and into a... limousine?

Harry's eyes narrowed and he suddenly felt a pain in his ribs as he observed the grand vehicle. It was as though he was transported back to a place he tried to put out of his mind. It looked strangely like the one that passed him sitting on the bench on consequently the worst day of his life. The day the man who just entered it stood him up. The painful memory of that day and the months he spent crying over it took over in a dark clench of his chest and his breath stuck in such a way he didn't think it was long until he collapsed.

He put a hand on his chest as he tried to breathe evenly, sinking down in a nearby chair. He didn’t fathom that with the bad memory would come the overwhelming rush of the same deep feelings for the man he thought were gone. Closing his eyes, he tried to gain control of what just happened. His eyes, his jugular, his lips, the rush of all of it so close, so close enough to touch. His smell... The feelings were very much still there and again it was all left abruptly on its own to scramble back into some semblance of normalcy. Unrequited.

 _This cannot happen right now. I have a new job and a new life to get on with and I cannot under any circumstances let this one encounter topple of it,_ he said to himself in a lecturing tone, hands dragging down his face. _Besides I might not see him again._ Something involuntarily jumped in his rib cage then, and his heart started racing thinking about how he might not see the man again. He literally just stumbled back into his life and he didn’t grab him before he ran off again. Harry tried to reason with himself that it wasn’t because he wanted him again but because he must still need closure that he was panicking about never seeing him again. He should have asked questions he should have made him explain what happened that day he didn’t show up. But as the thoughts rampaged in his mind he decided it was good he had left so soon again because he obviously didn’t want to be around Harry long enough to have a decent chat.

So Harry took a few deep breaths to let it all calm down, and when he got his shit back together he got up and skipped over to the party supplies shop. _He rushed back to his life in a heartbeat. And I have to do the same. I have to find a way to shove him out of my mind and get back to my new life._

He purchased a large cluster of blown balloons in purple, pink, blue, and green, paid for them and made his way out the shop.

Spotting a flower shop next door, he decided to take a quick look. There were so many beautiful choices. Unable to resist, he picked out the biggest bouquet of marigolds in sight and figured it would be a great _happy-birthday/ thanks-for-hiring-me/ good first impression on the boss_ type of gift.

*

**Harry pov**

"Are you kidding me!?" Harry muttered under his breath as a young lady veered back into the elevator after just stepping out of it, stealing the spot Harry was hoping to fill. “You literally just got off!”

There was already a batch of people dashing inside the elevator before he could with his handful of balloons and flowers.

"Today is my first day and coincidentally the boss's birthday! I'm getting on this elevator!" he spat at the startled lady, and she quickly jumped out blurting apologies alternatively with sneezes.

Hitting her a disapproving eye, he pushed balloons-first inside, stuffing them between the heads of annoyed suited occupants. The doors closed and the large bouquet of flowers took up space on his head, and as the apparatus went up a loud _POP_ was heard.

 _Great!_ Harry growled in his head, _Just great._ The elevator echoed with a timely cough/cleared throat coming from someone behind him that _had_ to be sarcastic. He rolled his eyes without looking back.

"Harry, you’re just in time. Thank God you got them ready blown!" Alice sighed in a rush as he appeared on his floor. "The boss is already in the building! Quick- everyone- get in position before he gets here!"

As a few hands grabbed a balloon each away from him, Harry saw Dianna and her brother stoop down behind a table, giggling while clutching confetti in theirs. Ducking and grazing around for a place to hide, Harry was nudged and hissed at by some other workers to _“Hit the lights!”_

As the elevator made a _Ti_ _ng!_ and the room yelled “Surprise!” Harry flicked the light switch back on with a huge grin on his face, and was almost electrocuted by his own neurons- because there peering in the doorway, in his abs-fitted, crisp ironed shirt and briefcase was the same intense and intelligent, deep _ocean_ eyes again.

His Burberry now lapping over an arm that held a bottle of something expensive-looking, the man's gobsmacked eyes were fixed over Harry like a new car paint-job, his mouth rigid with wrinkles as he made a slight jump backward.

Harry barely had time to process as everyone started to chorus “Happy Birthday to you,” but he and the man never faltered in their gazes on each other until Alice handed her boss the bouquet of Marigolds and his face went chalk-white when he read the card on it.

*

**Louis pov**

Amid the birthday singing and office chatter Louis’ head was spinning for a different reason. He felt like he had just got the wind knocked out of him, _twice_. The man who had surprised him earlier that day after three years of not seeing that face; the young man he forced himself to stop thinking about, was here in his building, in his office party. After seeing him in the deli, Louis thought it was going to take him another three years to stop hyperventilating at the rush of nostalgia of seeing those green eyes again.

He looked different from the last time Louis saw him- cultured, reserved- he did not know what it was. But even so from the moment he laid eyes on the man in the delicatessen he had been suddenly washed with images he thought he had stuffed away far enough; the dim suite lights, the sunny parasol, the chocolates scattered on rumpled clean linen sheets, the younger man’s earthy laugh, his funny fish mouth... They had all crashed into him like a bus. On the way to the office, Louis had to take several deep breaths to get his head back on track, back on business, but only to be hit with another electrifying spook by the same man’s presence.

And as if that aspect of his morning wasn’t weird enough, Alice, his secretary, had just planted in his hands a pristine bouquet of his favorite flowers topped with a card addressed from someone named _Harry._ In the seconds that Louis read it he tried to pass it off as maybe a joke from Crystal, but she had never done anything remotely funny like that before, plus she had to have long forgotten her uncle’s embarrassing eccentricity from her childhood years. So who is this culprit?

"Do you like them?"

Louis looked up from the bouquet to a pair of startlingly vivid green eyes and cherry cheeks. He hadn’t realized the singing and clapping had stopped and everyone was now handing out glasses for champagne. But all he could think about was the man in front of him and the name on the card. Still it didn’t occur to him that the two could be connected until the young man nodded suggestively at the card like he was looking for approval.

"This- you bought me these?" Louis stammered, people laughing around them with cake on napkins and plastic champagne glasses.

"Yeah, I did," the young man said, bashfully rubbing his palms together, breaking his gaze to watch a huddled group of men in rolled-up work sleeves revealing expensive wrist-worn timepieces chatter about. He looked back at Louis and smiled nervously, showing two sinks in his cheeks. Louis stared at them. Dimples. Louis never forgot those dimples.

Louis’ eyes widened in realization, and his mouth fell open in bemusement, sure his face was paler than pale. He looked at the card again. "Your name is-?"

"Harry,” the young man provided rather timidly, his hands now behind his back as Louis rest the flowers on a nearby desk. “That's my name." He said it with all the meaning and weight behind it that Louis understood from the hotel room name slip.

And Louis was in total flabbergast. Catching his composure and gazing at the young man, he held the card steady with his right hand and gave it a pointed flick with his left middle finger propelled from his thumb. _Of all the coincidences in the world to ever occur…_

"I'm sorry,” he said, not knowing what to say. “I don't remember telling you I like marigolds."

"You didn't. I didn't know what my new boss would like so I just went with my favorite flowers." Harry gaped at him with a startling, _this-is-so-outrageous-isn’t-it_ eyes.

Louis’ face went even paler. _He likes marigolds? His name is Harry and he likes marigolds!?_ His heart began to beat faster thinking he would have known all this by now if he had gone on that date.

"So, wow, you work here...” Louis said, stupidly.

Harry flushed and smiled... stupidly.

“You didn't know I was...?”

Harry’s eyes went larger. "Of course not. I had no idea this was your company. I didn't even know you had a company, remember? You probably would have told me at the deli if you hadn't barged out of there so fast. I'm just as shocked as you are, if not more."

“Alice told me there was a newbie,” Louis began to piece together, “I just didn’t put two and two together. _What's_ your last name?"

"Styles,” Harry let out a small laugh.

Louis copied the breathy laugh, taking in the man’s dimples and nodding slowly, deciding on the spot that he liked that last name.

*

**Harry pov**

A few minutes later, Harry ditched the platters of pigs-in-a-blanket and wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the city. The sun shone through, casting a smatter of warmth in the high air-condition. The man had introduced his children to him- the blondes they so happened to be- and Harry felt like a rodent in a cage with his son Freddie’s sneering eyes on him.

Mr Tomlinson. That was the name he heard Alice call the man when she handed him the marigolds. Mr Tomlinson. Harry didn’t know why that last name kept playing over in his head like a broken record. He guessed his brain was either trying to get familiar with it or he was picturing himself back in the _Lamure_ suite calling the man by it. But more than that, something about that name rang a distant bell to him.

"I found you."

Harry gasped and turned around. Flowers now ditched, the man was walking over to him.

With a courteous smile, Harry averted his eyes to the tiny yellow cars below. It was like he was on a foreign planet looking down at earth.

“I like looking out from this view too,” the man said, basking in the sunshine, his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers. "It reminds me just how small we are in the scheme of things."

His own skin glimmering with a light mist of nervous perspiration, Harry glanced at him; his eyes even bluer in the natural light. In an effort pretend like it was not moving atoms inside him, Harry pasted on a smile.

"So, what are the odds, huh?" the man chirped, as if his world hadn't just been flip-turned upside down by seeing Harry as much as Harry’s was by seeing him. “How are things?”

Harry bit his lips as he thought of the exact words he wanted to say. _I've been pining over you. Playing back everything you said in my head. Applying it to my life even though you stood me up._ But saying it would mean showing signs that the man still occupied his mind. So instead he blew a raspberry and said with a big smile, "I've been great."

The man stared him down, smiling dumbly. "I'm sorry- what is your name again?"

"Harry," he replied, taken aback by the man’s forgetfulness.

The older man blinked his eyes. "I know, you said that, but what is your name, really. Is it short for Harold?"

"No, just Harry," he said laconically, lashing his palm over his hair. He was a fool, because even after three years he still felt a warm shiver standing next to the man. "-Styles."

Ocean Eyes- _Mr Tomlinson_ \- looked shocked. Almost like he was expecting him to change his mind and not be a Harry anymore. It was then that Harry realized he was not being forgetful; he was astonished that his name was Harry like the _ex-boyfriend_ he didn’t want to talk about three years ago. _Oh, he's just catching on that I share the same name with his other Harry. The one who did a number on him._

“ _Harry Edward Styles..._ " the man said, speaking only to himself. Harry smiled, this one expanding beyond control. He remembered.

The man laughed. “In the deli I almost didn’t recognize you with the shorter hair."

“You don’t like it?” Harry found himself asking too tritely.

“It's nice now for a change from the Bon Jovi thing you had going on before.” He did a little twirl in the air with his fingers to demonstrate.

“I was going more for Michael Hutchence,” laughed Harry.

The man looked surprised. “I didn’t think you’d even know who that was.”

“Yeah. But I guess it wasn’t full enough and kinda did end up straighter like Jon.”

“Kind of somewhere in the middle, if I remember clearly. Like Madonna in Material Girl, I’d say.”

“I guess,” Harry laughed again then turned his whole body to the man, a delicate look of thought on his face.

"What?" Mr Tomlinson noticed and smiled.

"I was trying to remember- you told me your birthday was Christmas Eve. Why are they celebrating your birthday in August?"

"You are correct. This isn't my birthday. I hold an office party every year on my best friend’s birthday."

"I don't understand. Why does everyone think it's your birthday? Where is your friend?" Harry was pretty sure this _best friend_ had to be more than that.

Mr Tomlinson stretched on a grim smile and crossed his shoulders.

"He died. Twenty-six years ago."

~~

**_flashback_ **

_"I know Niall trusts you," Louis said to Hailee's brother, casting a glare on the woman before stepping out the door with the big brown object. "I have to go find him. He took the wrong briefcase!"_

_\--_

_Louis walked down the bridge where the co-worker said he would be, but no sign of him yet. Louis wondered why the man left work early and didn't go back home. Maybe he waited hoping for Louis to leave? He figured Niall must not have noticed he had the wrong briefcase. Was on his way home now? Louis was already anxious about Niall’s answer to his proposal. After seeing them again he could see it so clearly; him taking them to see his mother, Niall helping him start the business, Crystal going to the same school Louis did as a child and growing into a beautiful young lady they can both be proud of. Louis wanted it so bad. Not just for himself but for Niall. He deserved to live in a mansion after staying in Rome with Louis all those years with no complaints._

_As Louis zoomed down the road on the motorcycle, pondering where to head next, he caught sight of a commotion further down the bridge near the Castel Sant’Angelo. As he neared he noticed the smoky debris of a crash site- a cement truck collided with a small vehicle of a yellow color that reminded him of Niall's car._

_Niall's car!_

_Hearing the screams of onlookers, Louis ditched the bike and ran as fast as his feet could go. Running up to the scene his heart tumbled. Blood. So much blood on the road, surrounding a fallen Niall._

_No, no, no, no… “NO! NIALL! NIALL!!!!!”_

_He ducked and grabbed his friend’s head up off the hard ground. He was surrounded by metal, too tight to release without electric tool aid._

_"Niall! Can you hear me!?" The man’s once expressive eyes were dim on Louis, and even in the dimness and soot, he looked glad to see him._

_"Louis...Louis-I found-" Niall choked blood on whatever he was about to say. There was no sign of an ambulance yet and Louis deduced the accident had just now happened._

_"-My briefcase, I know, I came to give you yours!" Louis exclaimed as he examined just how bad Niall's situation was. His blond hair was dyed red with blood and he was properly sandwiched between the mangled iron sheets of the driver side car door that had unhinged on impact. The iron squeezed his torso making it hard for him to breathe. He kept weakly tugging on Louis' jacket like he was trying desperately to say something but Louis wasn't about to let him waste his strength. "Shhh! No, no, no! Save your strength! Don't say anything!"_

_He brushed his hair and kissed his forehead as his tears flowed._

_"Listen- to- me,” Niall spluttered blood. “Promise me- take- care- of- my daughter-" his breath gave out as he spoke and Louis nodded frantically._

_"You're gonna be ok, Niall!" Louis shouted in wails. Begging him mentally to stop talking like he was gonna die._

_But soon Louis let the fear take control of him. He was so afraid of what might happen, that he told Niall he loved him. Amid all the man’s tiny attempts to talk, Louis told Niall he loved him since the day they met. He hated himself for proposing to Niall the way he did. He just waltzed in after a year and expected Niall to just live with him again like roommates in another strange country and maybe, no promise, but just a ‘maybe’ they would this time grow into something stronger and lasting. And still he didn’t even say that to the man. Just come with me.’ But now as Niall lay in his arms he saw it. What he wanted. Even clearer than he did ten minutes ago. He saw a home. He saw marriage. He saw him and Niall old on a porch, wherever Niall wanted to live, England or Ireland or even stay in Rome. Louis would do anything, give anything for Niall to be okay now. For him to get a chance to shower him with all the love he had been saving for a phantom twin soul. It wasn’t until he heard the sirens closing in on the scene and his mouth was moving with a drowned out sound that he realised they were not just feelings and thoughts, but words. And he had just been saying them all to Niall._

_"No- I pro- promise- I'll bring- him back for you. If I meet- him there- I’ll br..,” Niall’s voice was reduced to faint whispers now but Louis could still hear him. Bring who back from where? Did he mean Harry? Harry was the last thing on Louis’ mind at the moment. He started crying heavier thinking how sweet Niall was, to make a vow like that at a time like this. The injured man kept talking, whispering, and Louis shook his head to silence him._

_"Niall, you are more than just my soulmate. You are the only man that I've ever truly loved,” Louis cried, smoothing Niall's blood-soaked hair as his eyes faded. “Remember: If that's my life, to never meet anyone as amazing as you, then so be it."_

_Niall clasped a few fingers to his shirt and whispered one last thing to Louis before the paramedics rushed the stretcher in._

_"Niall?" Louis said in a pitifully low voice as Niall’s head fell limp in his arms. “Help me!” he cried out in desperation and fear. The fire department came in and started shouting orders to saw the metal away as efficiently as possible. A medic touched him to check if he was hurt, asking him if he was part of the accident. But Louis couldn’t reply. He was frozen on the spot in shock chanting ‘help me.’ Soon his breathing choked and his eyes closed, feeling only the man’s hands loosening its clutch on his shirt._

_As the medic dragged him away to get room to free Niall, he looked around frantically. His neck made an arch upward where he saw the Archangel Michael’s statue high above them. "HELP MEEEEE!"_

~~

**Harry pov**

"He was twenty-seven. I was twenty-eight years old. In the hotel when you asked me what the most life changing day of my life was, that was it. It's not positive but- The day he died changed a lot for me." There was a halt after the last word like mashed brakes, and his shoulders rose in a sighing breath, his gaze to the busy city. 

Harry stared at the tiny hair roots on the man's chin and figured it must be too painful for him to continue. Harry just wanted to run the back of his fingers on it to comfort the man. His mind went back to when he got the hasty makeout session instead of an actual reply when he had asked the man about his friends. Not that he had been complaining but it all made sense now. 

He followed the man's gaze and continued turning his head away to look at the panoramic view of the city. He was sorry to hear such news but he was still getting accustomed to the surreal fact that the man he thought he'd never see again was now his boss.

Clearing his throat, Harry quickly looked down to make sure all his buttons were in order. 

"Was he _Harry?_ " He had to ask the million dollar question. He tried to make it casual but the nervous tinge was apparent.

"No, his name was Niall. See? I'm not the only one getting names mixed up," Mr Tomlinson said with a smirk.

Harry was rigid. Well what else did he expect him to think? He never mentioned this Niall before. "It's not mixing up if I only had one name to go on. I just assumed...You accidentally called me Harry, remember?"

"True." Mr Tomlinson's smile appeared, the one Harry idiotically dreamed about for far too long. "We don’t work on Christmas Eve, so I let the staff celebrate Niall’s birthday instead. Feels like he’s part of the company," he said, swinging his upper body to gesture to the others.

The sadness in his tone moved Harry. _So he had more than one love turned tragic in his life._

"I'm sorry," Harry was genuinely sorry but not immune to the bitterness and confusion that was leaping out now after it had plagued him for three years as regarding why the man had stood him up on the bus stop.

"Maybe if you had stuck to our plan you could have told me on our date," Harry couldn't help himself to say, the words ringing out colder than he had meant them. Anyone could pick up the assertive tone and fire back. Or maybe not, he thought as the man hit him with a hurt glance.

"Excuse me, Mr Tomlinson?" Alice interrupted, unsure. She stood by a near corner desk, briskly tapping a wine glass. "They're ready for a toast."

Mr Tomlinson gestured his head for Harry to join him inside and he even waited for him to enter first. A nostalgic reminder of the gentleman at the _Lamure_.

The champagne popped open and started pouring in glasses. The staff gathered around like beloved followers. Harry had to remind himself to sink away into the crowd for fear his obvious attraction to the man would be noticed. The last thing he wanted was to stick out next to the man like they were some kind of couple. Alice ventured to the man’s side but it barely looked awkward, judging from the familiarity in their exchanges.

Harry tried to look normal and show no recognition as Mr Tomlinson raised his glass.

"Alright, alright. As you all know I’m famous for starting this party tradition, but the past few years it’s all been you guys. Thank you all for your hard work and dedication, you can all get back to work now, ha ha."

Dianna cackled and clapped and elbowed her father and Freddie downed the expensive champagne, clearly not wanting the festiveness to end.

Harry could not stop staring at the man, who was now talking intently to a male worker. Harry just met him at the deli after so long and now here the man was, barely an hour later, the owner of the company he just literally started working at- _his boss’ dad_. He was in his life for an indefinite amount of time depending on whether Harry still had a job tomorrow after mentioning the date that didn't happen.

Everyone cheered. Mr Tomlinson's eyes crinkled with joy, boring into Harry with something akin to what he was feeling- _Was this real? Was this is really happening?_

Overwhelmed, Harry slipped away as the room raised their glasses for another toast. 

*

"Zayn! You have to meet me at my apartment! Pronto!" Harry said into his cell as he flagged down a passing taxi in broad daylight and bolting for it when it stopped.

Rushing into his apartment minutes later, Zayn was already worried.

“You’re not gonna believe this!” Harry shouted, flinging the door open to invite him in.

Harry went into the whole story from the start of his day to the finish, and Zayn was left stumped for words.

“I didn’t see him when I went for the interview," Harry paced frantically. "He must’ve been in his office the whole time I was there or taken a day off or something. If only I had seen him before I took the job!”

“What?" Zayn said, aware harry was about to have a panic attack. "You were actually gonna turn down the job of your dreams because he’s the head of it?”

"I can’t believe it, he's my boss!" Harry yanked off his tie and shrugged out of his jacket. "I work for him! He pays me!" 

"You collected your salary?" Zayn asked, genuinely curious about that.

"No! Not yet! - You know what I mean!"

“Well at least we know he’s not a homeless person.”

The back of Harry’s hand hit him in the chest. “Ouch! Calm down."

"Calm down? The man I fell for at a hotel three years ago and left me unable to date anyone since is the Editor-In-Chief at my new job and I am probably going to be fired!" Harry had to catch his breath after saying all that in one breath.

"Breathe, Harry,” Zayn ordered, minding Harry’s exaggeration. His mind recalled coming in the door and hearing the whistling kettle on the stove and thinking Harry was in the shower. Recalled tossing his sweatshirt and marching tiredly to Harry’s room to borrow some clothes to head back out. Seeing Harry lying on the floor like a thrown rag doll, his eyes wet and unblinking, oblivious to Zayn’s presence. He had to wrap him up in his blanket and put him on the bed, and it took a solid forty-eight hours after that for Harry to tell him what happened. He remembered being so scared that Harry was raped or hurt, and it took everything in his body to stop himself from alerting the police until Harry talked. When he finally did, Zayn tried so hard to cover his relief. And he was relieved not only because Harry was physically fine, but because the mystery man had obviously enough sense to not show up for a date with a guy half his age. It took his friend a while but he got over it. Zayn hadn’t seen this look since that night.

“You need to go back and kick ass in that company,” he said now, his supportive-voice mode on. “Him being the boss doesn't have to bear weight on you doing your job. This was always your dream. Stay on it! Besides, I doubt he's gonna fire you."

“Maybe not on my first day,” Harry added.

Zayn stared off to the kettle in the kitchen. "Well you better start looking for another job early. I don’t like you spending all that time with him, come to think of it. What if he wants another rendezvous?"

Harry stopped pacing and did a quirky head swirl in utter indecision.

Zayn's eyes popped open. "You have got to be kidding me!" He couldn’t believe Harry was seriously contemplating it.

Harry’s eyes went dreamy and his shoulders fell in a sad surrender. "You should have seen him. He was this close to me,” -he held his thumb and index an inch apart- “and he smelled the same, and…" Harry was falling again. Falling _apart_. But he didn't hit the ground this time because Zayn grabbed him and held him just in time.

*

 ****

  
  



	4. Chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments, you can imagine how nervous I was to post this fic but you have made me feel comfortable enough to share this story without wondering how it will be received. I needed that!
> 
> Please if you haven't already leave kudos and nice comments, they are good for the fic!!

**_'Love has no age, no limit; and no death'~ John Galsworthy_ **

Harry felt timidly feminine today as opposed to yesterday’s masculine debonair who had experienced the frightening revelation. Walking into _IColorture_ in a flowery shirt, he was already a nervous wreck. But as soon as the elevator opened and he stepped out into the work floor the smell of musky amber, lavender, and vanilla floated over his nostrils. Something that was supposed to be an exciting smell caused Harry only anxiety now, knowing who it belonged to.

He saw the man straight ahead in a navy blue suit, his back turned to Harry at Alice’s desk. He had leaned over to tell her something Harry couldn’t hear, and Alice palmed the entire table, eyes wide like her head was about to explode with panic. Off the bat, with a slightly amused smile, the man plucked his pen from his jacket pocket and punched the point out for Alice, swiftly handing it to her. And she took it, flashing her big can-do grin. Harry was impressed with how attentive he was for a magazine executive.

“Hey,” the man said in a tone that breathed business as Harry walked by. He returned a smile and a general ‘good morning’ to the both of them before ducking into Dianna’s office. She had not arrived yet, but Harry was already emailed his tasks the night before while venting to Zayn. He was informed in the email that a separate desk was put in Dianna’s office for his use. 

The office was bright egg white tones, airy with a tall lash plant in a sunless corner by a miniature bookshelf, a lounge chair finishing the look. Hooking his coat over the back of the chair, he pressed the power button on the computer and got to work.

Cruising through the system trying to navigate the software, he had to lift his head as the door opened.

“Hi,” Mr Tomlinson said, squeezing in the door with a peek around Dianna’s unoccupied corner. He closed the door behind him, clutching his laptop bag.

Harry sat up.

“You skipped out on work yesterday,” the older man said in a moderate tone, tucking his hands in his pocket. He began to saunter around, picking at the pencil holder on Dianna’s desk and perusing the white board to Harry’s left- That cologne wafting about the room like a fisherman’s bait.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Harry was already breathing hard.

“Is everything okay?” the man turned to Harry with a gentle yet direct gaze. “It wasn’t me, was it?”

Harry blinked. “No, I just. I had a stomach thing,” he said making it sound as light as possible.

Mr Tomlinson nodded intently, eyes now showering with concern. He walked over to the lounge chair and sat, clasping his fingers together. The desk was directly opposite the chair, and Harry was now eye level with the man. For some reason he suddenly felt pompous and rude staying behind the desk, so he got up and made his way around it, settling himself against the edge to face the man.

“It’s quite alright, just sign out next time so we all know you left,” the older man gave a brief smile. “You skipped out before I had a chance to properly introduce myself, I mean I rant about my kids more than anything.”

“It’s okay. _Mr Tomlinson_ ,” Harry replied with a smirk, lowering his head as he shifted off the table to go back behind the desk. Finally addressing him came out less awkward than he thought it would.

The man’s face reddened at Harry’s knowledge. “Louis,” he said, observing Harry’s movements.

Harry’s head perked back up and he stopped, trying to steady himself at the surprise of the man finally giving his first name.

“It’s only fair,” the man added, letting the sentence fade off in silent knowledge.

And the air seemed to have evaporated from the room, and Harry suddenly didn’t know where to place his hands. Somehow loose to his side didn’t seem right; and folding them felt rude and hostile; and behind his back sly and secretive. He placed them on his hip but that was authoritative in front of his new boss so he settled with holding them together in front of him.

"Thank you, Louis," he said, trying not to grin too wide or too rigidly.

“Of course _Mr Tomlinson_ is standard,” the man said quickly, killing the mood of the breakthrough, jesting Harry back into reality. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you are ready to work, and to give you a quick rundown of the company goals since you’re new here. _IColorture_ strives to contribute to culture,”-he flashed a smirk with arched eyebrows - “by providing news, helpful advice, entertainment and information. We take these contributions very seriously.”

“I’m glad to be a part of it.” Harry tried to conceal his observation of how the older was now being all _on the surface_ and ignoring that they had a much more private past. 

Louis rose up and offered a handshake. “I’m sure you will be a valuable addition and hope you will like it here.”

“Thank you,” Harry took his hand and let him lead in a genial, slightly sedate shake. The man then loosened his hand to leave.

“And, oh, before I forget,” Harry stretched to his bag and pulled out a folder. “I was going to give it to Dianna but it’d be swell if you could take a look at these? It’s some articles and journals I wrote over the years? If they may serve as part of my portfolio?”

Louis’ eyes lit up as Harry handed it to him. “Thanks. I’ll go through it when I get time.” He gave a warm smile, gesturing the folder, before slipping out the door.

*

Louis tried to concentrate on his work. But what kept flashing across his mind were questions like _What color was that_? -The newbie was dressed in a slim-fitted white shirt with tiny flowers all over it, and waist- height trousers something the color of... blueberries- and coals- blended- in- milk? Disgusting thing to do in the kitchen, but the striated look was blameless on him. What right did he have to look so damn good? And how is it possible his name is Harry? 

The hotel..., the deli..., the office... Since the young man told him his name, all he could think about was Harry. This new Harry _and_ the old twin soul who never materialized. Louis did not believe in that prophecy shit anymore, but even so, he found himself wondering about the fortune teller he had met all those years ago and what Niall said about his twin soul... But even if it had all been true, it would still be impossible- he was too young. 

The only reason Louis was still sane at the moment was because he kept telling himself this isn’t his Harry, this is just a coincidence and the young man was simply a part of his midlife crisis turned _IColorture_ employee. This Harry, though more astonishing than the other few he dated in the past, would be much ado about nothing.

 _I wonder how he feels today with the stomach flu?_ When the man told him the reason he left the office early he was bathed in worry. He had tried with great effort to tone it down a bit to the sort of vague look one would give an employee who was really good at excuses. And it may have very well been an excuse, but Louis guessed worrying about the young man instead of giving him a warning was just a red flag reminder of how much of a pushover he had become. He did not want to think he was the reason the younger man bailed on his first day, but he understood how overwhelming it must have been for the young man to see him again. Ever since he stepped off the elevator and saw the bloke covered in confetti Louis himself was mangled in thoughts and feelings.

A knock on the door jerked him out of it. A broad-shouldered, medium-built man with rugged, pale eyebrows to match his dry brushed-back hair, opened the door. 

Dan Wootton. Dan was Louis’ lawyer, advisor and long-time friend. He was introduced to him by his ex-wife Eleanor at a cocktail party he went with her some twenty years ago. She loved the high life with Louis and his mother at the mansion, and would often drag Louis to these lofty affairs that reminded him of his father’s personality. He would shake his head at her and tell her how much his father would have liked her… then at least one of them would.

Dan was ten years older than Louis, and at the time he wondered what Eleanor, who was eleven years younger than Louis, possibly saw in the guy to entertain his friendship. Dan started coming to the mansion claiming to have important information about the legal aspects of running a magazine business, and would sit on Louis’ mother’s couch chatting to them and drinking Louis’ father’s old wine stash. Louis guessed he had a crush on his mum but Louis knew she would never be interested in the slightest. She grieved his father every day. It did take her a while to get accustomed to Dan raiding her husband’s prized collection, but then she was knocking glasses with the man, and that smile on his mother’s face gave Louis a new appreciation for the new friend. 

Louis never understood the language of attorneys, and he used to make Dan break it down simpler for him, but as the years went by and Dan became part of the _IColorture_ team Louis began to trust his judgement and let him do his job without having to keep up with all the logistics.

“So, I noticed your new addition to the staff.” The older man glided into the room, his hands pensively behind his back.

Louis briefly glanced from his paperwork. “Oh yeah. Harry. Di’s new assistant editor.” He was still trying to wrap his head around the _Harry._

Dan let out an abysmal sigh. “The Finch case is supposed to be dissolved but the media is still murmuring." He took a seat on his desk, twisting his waist to Look back at Louis with a semi-worried stare. “They’re still insinuating the company is responsible.”

“This has gone on too long,” Louis dropped his pen and pressed his fingers on his temples. “So what’s our strategy?”

“Same as you have been doing all along.” The man looked at him with a temperance of cautionary advice. “Laying low, focusing on the company- that sort of thing. Once you do that it should keep them at bay.”

“Thank you, Dan. I value your advice when it comes to the welfare of the company.” Louis smiled as the man lifted himself off the desk and stalked out of the room.

Dan had particularly proved an asset to the company three years ago when he called Louis directly after he had kissed Harry’s hand for the last time outside the hotel suite in hopes of seeing the young man again in a week's time. It was a call that caused Louis to make a decision; his company, or a fling with a man some twenty-something years his junior. It had ripped him apart to do it, but he chose his company.

Louis would have been lying if he said he hadn’t been thrown out of his body seeing the young man again, or that it didn’t hurt like hell when the man made the jab yesterday about getting stood up. It had been one of Louis’ biggest regrets letting the time they spent together get so far as to fall in love with the young man by the end of it. He had convinced himself that he had done the right thing but yet here the man was in his place of business making references to their affair.

Deciding to stop beating around the bush, and face the problem head on, he pressed the connection to his secretary’s line.

“Alice? Can you get Harry in here please?”

 _"The newbie?"_ Alice asked, her tone worried about his serious one.

"Yes," he said, a quizzical eyebrow gesturing impatiently through the open door at her out in the hall before dousing back into his work.

_“Sure, Boss.”_

*

**Harry pov**

Harry was enjoying helping Dianna edit a bunch of manuscripts from independent writers looking for their stories to be published in the magazine issues. He read all the stories and gave suggestions as to the best ones to add, while Dianna sat at her computer coming up with cool fonts to add to the pieces she liked.

He went back and forth from her desk to the white board, pinning color-coded sticky notes on it, to editing articles at his own desk. By two o’clock he realized he hadn’t been to lunch and the muscles in his arms and feet were sore but he didn’t mind. He loved having a say in what goes on the pages of a magazine and helping perfect the words.

"Excuse me, Harry?" Alice communicated from the doorway. "Boss wants to see you in his office." Her tone all look-who’s-in-trouble-now.

Dianna looked slightly irritated at the interruption in her progress (and Harry noted not to get on her nerves for future reference) but she gave a permissive smile, handing him a folder and giving him a quick message for Louis.

Harry promptly got up, took the folder and plodded to the man’s office.

*

Harry gave a few knocks on the ajar door and got a muffled "Uh, yeah, come in."

On entering, he did not look at the man right away, his attention on his surroundings. His office was darker than Dianna’s; Manchester brown tones, blinds over all the windows blocking the potentially sight-saving views of the city. 

Louis sat back in his chair, eyes on Harry who stood in front of the neatly organized desk. He lifted his head long enough to gesture to a chair for Harry to sit if he preferred.

Taking the seat in the smaller chair, Harry held out the folder to him, a smile on his face as he relayed Dianna’s message. 

Louis hesitated before taking it and dropping it on his desk. He then slid his chair back and got up, thumb and forefingers clipped to smooth his tie out. Harry watched him move over to the door and pulled the blinds closed. The man then slid his hands in his pockets and turned to walk back over to Harry, who was now twiddling his trembling thumbs in silent restraint- a side-effect of the consuming cologne.

"Why are you here?" Louis asked in a flat tone, his frame casual. He returned to his chair.

"I interviewed for this job," Harry gulped, wondering what he did to deserve this tone. He had been making sure he did everything to the best of his ability. He had only gotten confused one time when Alice had to explain a few things on the database to him but that hardly slowed him down.

“No, I mean why are you _here_?” Louis inquired again, eyebrows worrisome. "You sure you didn't research me, where I work?"

" _Research_ you?” Harry belatedly caught on with the subject. The man was accusing him of _stalking_ him? “You didn't even tell me who you _were._ Instead of lying, you _know_ you could've told me." 

Harry struggled to keep it together with the reality his ethics were now being questioned by the man who two days prior was not even in his life. He struggled to comprehend how the job he had wanted so bad could be dangling in the hands of said man. His hard work to get where he is, was being put into question by the man who was the reason for that hard work, ironically. And Harry, although he was mad, understood how this must be confusing for Louis too, having a man he only knew as a prostitute show up in his building all of a sudden with no explanation. Harry examined his situation- Even if he didn’t get fired on the spot Louis would be looming in the office everyday, a part of his new life.

"I didn't lie to you. Had you told me what _your_ name was-"

"- _You_ didn't tell me _your_ name either," Harry countered. 

"We had an agreement to withhold the information," Louis shrugged his shoulders. “You were an escort. Yet here you are in my place of work. I’ll ask you again; is there something you want?”

Harry huffed and jumped into a rant. "If you’re implying what I think you are; I went to college. _And_ business school. I worked hard for this job-"

"I don't remember asking you that. My intention isn’t to discredit your education here, Har-" Louis took a minute to swallow at the gaffe. “Mr Styles,” he quickly corrected, visibly nettling Harry.

"But your undertone...” Harry declaimed his words. “You're giving me a tone that says you think lowly of me- asking me if I researched you, like I’m some kind of stalker."

"That is far from the truth," Louis leaned back in his chair boldly, yet still visibly agitated.

"For your information, I did research _all_ the firms that I applied to,” Harry folded his arms. “This firm just happened to be the first to hire me. I'm here to do my job. If you want to fire me, then go right ahead. If not, let me go back to work. Either way, this conversation is over."

"I didn't say I was firing you,” Louis blinked and shrugged nervously. “That's not what's happening. I'm just curious, that's all. I'm sorry. Yes, you should get back to work."

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Louis replied with less body.

"I think, to make our jobs easier, we should call a truce." Harry’s jaw was set, his eyes burning with defense. "Leave what happened in the past." 

"I totally agree with you, Mr Styles," Louis affirmed, lifting his bum halfway off the chair and stretching out his hand over the table, a smirk on his lips at Harry’s huff in reaction to the formal address.

"Thank you, _Mr Tomlinson_ ," Harry shook his hand, his voice still shaking with rage but softer as he watched the man’s jaw tighten in reaction to his last name grating out of Harry’s mouth in a sarcastic tone.

Satisfied with himself but still seething, Harry turned and strode out of the man’s office.

*

Two hours later Harry was at his desk still trying to wrap his head around how rude and disappointing Louis had been earlier.

_Mouthing off to me and questioning me after what he did...Of all the nerve._

Typing on his computer, he lifted his head when Dianna popped back into the room after scuttling around everyone’s desks on the floor. Harry had heard her mumbling about while working on an article for the next issue.

Dipping his head back on his screen, he heard heavy paper slam on her desk, and knew she was in a bad mood.

He gave her a questioning look and she sighed sharp. “He’s just so inscrutable sometimes, I feel I’m going crazy. That man will literally drive me crazy.”

Harry didn’t need to ask to know who she was on about. In fact, if he was not a new worker he might have just gone into a tirade about the man too but, no, Harry sat in his little chair fighting back the urge to slam his palms down on the table in agreement.

“He has no innovation, no insight. I have so much I want to contribute and he just dashes them all away like yesterday’s brioche.” She then looked at Harry, who was nodding furtively.

“He wants me to get some letters out of the mail room,” she sighed, picking up a sharpie and a document. “Do you mind getting the recent pile?”

“Sure,” Harry slid out of his cubicle asking her for some directions. Taking mental note of them, he raced to the door and stopped. “By the way, Dianna, I think you’re definitely today’s brioche. So far, what you shared with me about your vision is fascinating and fresh, perfect for _IColorture_.”

Dianna smiled instantly, and Harry left the room, giving a cranial salute.

*

Still slightly on edge about Louis’ accusation, Harry dug around the small, crammed mail room and tried to center his mind. He found the pile of recent letters wrapped up together untidily, but the room was a mess. There were letters upon letters on the table and spilled to the floor and stuffed into the mail shelves even though there was no room for them to fit without crumpling in a cubicle, a muffled smell of mold wafting every time Harry lifted a bundle. 

Why didn’t he focus his energy into keeping his company mail room in order instead of attacking his new workers? Harry thought as he placed the bundles of mail in rows on the tiny table.

He was stooping down to gather some from the floor and glimpsed the label on a box that was as wide as his outstretched arms by the table foot.

 _‘Rejected’_ it said.

Curious, he lifted all the scattered envelopes off the top to see inside. Stacks of pages filled the box. Manuscripts and opened letters dating back to the early 2000s, he saw from skimming through the first few. Some were stained brown in the area of the rusted staples and others were splotched with foxing and eaten away by insects.

Harry let out a boisterous sneeze.

“What are you doing there, Harry?”

Startled, Harry looked up. “Alice. Um, Dianna sent me to look for some mail.”

“Yeah, I think you and I are looking for the same thing,” she poked the middle of her spectacles above her nose and stooped down to help him. “Mr Tomlinson sent me in here to get the recent pile of submission letters.”

"The place is contraption, isn't it?" Harry said, wiping his runny nose.

“Been like this for a while," she said. "You didn’t hear it from me,” she checked to the door briefly then gave him a conspiratorial look, “But Dianna’s been binning all _IColorture_ ’s submission letters in here. Mr Tomlinson gets mad every time someone calls and asks if their story has been accepted by the magazine and he hadn’t even seen their letters in the first place. They just had an argument about it.”

Harry huffed and handed her the pile of mail. “Yeah Dianna didn’t seem happy just now...Everything is jumbled up. Dust everywhere,” he branched off.

“Oh yeah, that’s one thing. The company doesn’t have an official mail organizer.”

“Isn’t Inventory supposed to do that?”

“Oh yeah, that’s Simon. He’s more focused on stock keeping. Besides; everyone just comes in here, collects their mail, and gets out. Mr Tomlinson would let Dianna handle the submission letters. He trusted her to choose which articles get picked, but like I said, she dumps the lot of them back in here.”

“Huh,” Harry said, rubbing his nose as Alice turned to get up. “I wonder why though? I mean, to throw them in here without even opening them...Some of them might be good. It's not like she's not accepting letters at all, I mean we spent all day reading submissions."

Alice gave him a look. "Yes but ask yourself- what sort of letters does she have you working on, newbie? And are they in line with the type of company you applied to?" She turned and leaned into Harry like a playground playmate and whispered covertly; “It’s not my place to say but I don’t think Dianna is content with where the magazine is. I hear she wants to shake things up and possibly put her dad on the shelf.”

Harry’s eyes widened in fear. He had no idea where that feeling came from. Possibly the thought of losing his job as soon as he got it if the company shifts in another direction. Or maybe it’s the possibility of never seeing Louis again...?

“Yeah but isn’t he like... the big boss?”

“He is, but some of the staff have been talking and they say he’s been a bit laid back, so to speak, in recent years.”

Harry shoved his eyebrows together and looked away. “But he’s not old, like...”

Alice gave a hearty chuckle, clutching a pile of envelopes. “Not yet but since he got diagnosed with arthritis...” She let the sentence fade and looked at the door as someone passed by, “I gotta go. Better get these to the boss.”

She sprung up and minced to the door, the bundle in her hands.

“Wait. This box,” he gripped the edge of the old rejected box. “Is it alright if I have a look?”

Alice glanced at the label. “Suit yourself. Nobody cares about that pile.”

*

Two weeks had passed by since Harry began at the company. Each day he walked into _IColorture_ felt like a bitter sweet dance. He’d pass Louis in the halls some days, have him peer his head in to brief Dianna on some work thing while glancing precariously in his direction and disappearing. But each day got bearable little by little until they were exchanging amiable smiles with their office greetings and Louis going the extra mile including Harry in conversations with Dianna like ‘Sure _Styles_ can help you figure out a nice color scheme,’ and ‘Yeah, you and _Styles_ did a good job there. Avoiding using _'Harry'_ like a disease but it did serve to break the stiff wall between them around the workplace although they never had a one on one conversation to let Harry know what was really inside his head.

It was after seven and the city lights came to life outside the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall glass window of Dianna's office. She had gone home an hour ago and Harry had already finished editing an article on Indigenous jewelry she tasked him with, and was now focused on one of the old stories from the dusty _rejected_ pile. It was a riveting read, a delightfully fresh escape from the textile and fashionista that was his daily grind with Dianna, and stirred Harry’s emotions on what some people in far corners of the earth go through, but his neck was stiff now and his eyes were going blurry.

Resting his eyes, he leaned back in his chair and looked out from his seat at the tiny ant-trail of cars along the road below, the thousands of lantern-like flickers of orange poked all over the tall buildings that stood with _IColorture_ dominating the sky.

"Might as well get home," he said to himself. He drew out a long, heavy yawn and loosened his tie. He was feeling pretty masculine these past few days, opting for plain suits to make himself look as masterly and white collar as the other males in the building, not wanting to stand out just yet after the bad luck he had the day he wore the flowered shirt. 

He scooped up all the papers, neatening up the desk, and a few stapled pages fell out. Picking it up, he saw it was a short story addressed to the _Herculean Times_.

The _Herculean Times_? 

As he viewed the papers, someone skulked by the open door, making him aware of the echo on the building floor.

 _Wow, It’s really that late_ , he thought as he heard the magnified footsteps trail backwards.

"Mr Styles," Louis said, sticking his head in and leaning into the door frame. "Why are you still here? Your shift was done an hour ago.” He tugged his left sleeve and looked at his watch, his coat and briefcase hanging from his arm. Harry's mouth fell agape as he found himself stealing a glance at the man's profile. The perfectly chiseled cheekbones and profound lips sent electric wires through Harry.

"Oh, I was just wrapping up,” he gathered himself enough to say as he stacked up the papers, his voice coming out tired and foggy, he thought.

“Oh, okay.” The man drooped his eyes over him distractedly. “See you tomorrow, then," he shifted his weight off the door frame and turned to walk away.

Harry knew it was wrong to ask. Over the past few weeks he had looked at Alice’s notes- at first it happened by accident when he was trying to help her find a flash drive that had gone missing on her desk, then it was a notebook, then an important envelope of pictures- and was intrigued to learn that every Tuesday night at eight Louis would go to this expensive restaurant across town before heading home. He knew the man was going there tonight and he just didn’t know what got into him to ask.

"Um, where are you headed?" he asked as casually as he could muster.

"I was going to _Georgia's Kitchen_ actually."

"Oh, I love that place," Harry clipped, though he had only been there once. "Mind if I tag along?"

Louis perked his head up hesitantly, then slowly brought it down in a gracious nod.

Harry tilted his head with a pert smile. "I promise I'm good company."

“As I recall,” Louis looked off to somewhere out the window then back at him. "Come on, then."

He didn't have to tell Harry twice. He bounded up, grabbing his bag. 

He hopped in the elevator with the older man, scraping wild hair off his forehead and adjusting his messenger strap.

Louis gave a rigid thing resembling a smile and cleared his throat.

Harry looked up prayerfully. He would be going down eight stories and off to dinner with the man who broke his heart three years ago. Harry fidgeted with his tie, shirt, jacket...tie again, and glanced at the elevator button. He then mimicked the man’s throat-clearing and tried to focus on the steel doors.

He shot Louis a sideways glance and caught him looking away from him. He held his breath.

Louis shifted to face him and just as fast shifted back to the front. "Might as well get it out of the way..." he said, smiling. Smiling? He smiles?

"Whadyou-"

"I mean the awkward...tension,” Louis didn’t wait. “It's obvious we're not quite rid of the embarrassment of our first encounter, and given we're about to have a meal together -alone, I might add- I think it's best to get it out of the way, clear the air, so to speak."

"I thought we already did. You said that you wanted to keep things professional..." The last vowel came out slower, quieter than the rest of his sentence, and Harry grew to despise it. Though he was the one to call it first in the name of _professionalism_ , he didn't want to be professional at all. He wanted to go down on the gifted man again right there in the elevator. Louis was fit for a man his age; Sexy stubble growing over his face and under his chin, neatly marked hairstyle. A dark grey suit to match his hair, the man looked almost ten years younger than he claimed.

"I did. And that holds. But...professional doesn't have to mean uncomfortable. I pride myself on running a company that caters to the livelihood of its employees. What kind of boss would I be if I made things awkward for you? You did express how important this job is to you..."

"It is. I'm grateful to you for hiring me."

"I didn't hire you. My daughter did," Louis nonchalantly informed. "She is bored with traditional culture. She wants to branch more towards fashion. That takes a lot more work. Hence why she needed to hire an assistant. Nevertheless, I trust her judgement. No matter what surprises they may ensue," on the point, he eyed Harry from head to foot, causing the younger man to suck in his cheeks.

“That’s why she’s been binning your mail,” Harry mumbled more to himself. He was under the impression he was there to serve the company as a whole, not one person’s mutinous endeavor. He wondered whether he should tell him what Alice said about shelving him, but decided it best not to add to the gossip and cause tension for anyone, especially himself.

Louis shifted surprised. “Yes, she told you about that. Of course she did. You’re the new soldier, her way of getting my attention. Let me guess- she told you I was a tyrannical bore who keeps the magazine somewhere in the Gatsby era whereas she has a Jetson-like vision to take it to the stars.” He made the ‘stars’ sound like a slowly floating cloud.

Harry laughed.

“Never mind,” Louis cracked a smile. “Whatever it is, she’s still my daughter.”

“Am I?” Harry asked, “Getting to you?” It was a genuine question meant to calculate his future at _IColorture_ , but somehow the petrified look on the man’s face made Harry deliver an amused smirk with it.

Louis’ eyes settled into a contented glare. “It is for my daughter’s sake and the magazine's I rather want to get this off my chest.” He took in a deep breath to say next, “You and I spent a weekend together once, saw each other naked, and there were some things I let slip that would have been better kept to myself."

Rolling his eyes at his smoldering tone, Harry gave a breathy sing song laugh. "Correction; _I_ saw _you_ naked. And yeah it was hard forgetting the _enormity_ of what you,”-he coughed- “let slip.”

"Okay, that's enough _clearing the air_ for now," Louis said quickly, turning to face the elevator door. He reclined his head to look at the moving floor numbers display, and Harry could see the pink on his cheek going deeper by the second.

Harry smiled and released the air slowly through his nose. He felt his groin grow hot as he involuntarily brushed arms with his clearly uncomfortable boss. Something about the scent of the man’s sweat mixed with his cologne was aged and musky, and Harry found it irresistible.

A few minutes later they stepped off the elevator and Louis opened the glass double doors for Harry to step out into the cool night air. The city was so alive like a fresh new shift was taking over from the day; taxis blowing horns as they swooped by looking for passengers, pedestrians chattering as they bustled by, men and women with briefcases on their way for dinner or a cocktail after their days’ work- Harry felt part of a whole new scene, a whole new life. And just when he thought it was overwhelming enough he spotted a limousine out front and Louis gestured to it welcomingly.

"Oh my god. I've never ridden in a limo.”

Louis stopped and wide-eyed Harry, a hand on the door. "Seriously?"

Harry blew an overwhelmed breath, as he bashfully scratched his fingers on the side of his neck.

"Well, I'm glad I could be the first to entertain you," Louis said, a genuine smile cracking on the sides of his mouth.

* 

Inside the restaurant, the scrumptious smell of carefully prepared food reaching their nostrils and waking Harry’s senses, Louis pulled a chair out for him and took a seat opposite. He shoved his coat off, and Harry swallowed at the way his abs and the ball of his shoulder joined up with his collarbone and neck veins. He glanced over at Harry and rolled up his sleeves to where they could not go any further- halfway up his forearms- and flapped out a napkin over his lap.

Harry did the same, and as the waiter waltzed over with the menus, he scanned his surroundings- the clatter of an older woman’s silverware meeting china as she loftily smiled at her date through red-stained lips; a younger het couple sharing a joke, their glasses clinking in happy toast. He had told Louis he loved the place, insinuating he went there regularly, but the truth was he and Zayn had been there once on their first date, when they had _tried_ to date. He smiled remembering Zayn nervously trying to act all ‘etiquettish’, and busting away his bow tie as soon as they had hit the exit. Harry barely recalled what they ordered; the menu was all in Italian- some sort of fancy veggie pasta, more cabbage than noodles.

A reminiscent smile crossing his face, he looked over at Louis browsing the menu. The man had been quiet on the way there, sitting opposite him with his eyes to the left, sharing some private thought with the closed dark-tinted window of the limo. He looked like the same things were on his mind that were on Harry's; how to jump start and continue the conversation now after _clearing the air_ when even petty small talk just didn't seem to cut it.

"What are you having?" he asked him just as the waiter came back to take their order. What the heck, it can't count as petty small talk, it's the natural and obvious thing to say when you find yourself sitting discomfited in a five-star restaurant with zero Italian linguistic skills and a waiter glowering down at you like he suspects you are full of shit.

“ _Spaghetti alle vongole_ ,” Louis said, more to the waiter. And we will have the _Panna Cotta_ for dessert.”

“Is it good?” Harry asked, eyes maintaining contact with Louis as the waiter stood by patiently for his order.

“Yes, it’s excellent,” Louis replied pleasantly but with a little suspicious twitch in his eye lid as he picked up a glass of water and took a sip. Harry’s gaze transferred to his hand as he remembered what Alice said. Since then he had heard from the other workers when they went out to lunch that it was the joints in Louis’ hands that sometimes cramped up on "the old bloke" as they affectionately called him. Curiously, Harry had looked it up and read that arthritis in fact does not affect only one age group as so commonly misconstrued, and he was sure to tell the others the next time he had gone to lunch with them.

“Then I’ll have the same,” Harry ordered bubbly, the waiter taking note and hurrying off.

Eyes popping open, Louis let out a cough. He quickly rested his water glass and stopped the waiter. He started rapping to the apron-ed man in Italian “ _Avrà la Cotoletta alla milanese con patate grigliate. Grazie._ ”

“ _Sì, nessun problema,”_ the waiter replied, hurrying off to the kitchen.

Fighting not to show how impressed he was with the man’s Italian –and failing- Harry giggled. “What just happened?”

“I ordered you something else. You can’t eat the same thing as me.”

“Why not?” Harry demanded.

“Because I just ordered spaghetti and clams. And if I remember clearly, you are allergic to shellfish.”

Harry blushed. The last thing he wanted was for Louis to think he was too rough hewn for his company, no pun intended. “I don’t know if to thank you or apologize for my crudeness.”

“It’s alright,” Louis said, eyes now distracted with his IPad. “You’ll love it. Everything is done carefully and authentically here.”

The statement was timely because just then another waiter came and poured something with a deep mahogany color in their snifter glasses. Harry caught the label as he set the bottle down. _Cognac Pierre Ferrand..._ He remembered as a child his mother taking him with her to the grocery store at holiday time and buying brandy to pour in her Christmas cakes. Harry would beg her to buy the ones in the fancy bottles so he could play with them after, and she would tusk and bypass them because they were too expensive. As he grew older he learned those fancy-bottled ones were called cognac.

“What’s the difference between cognac and brandy?” he asked, finally getting a prayer to set off a conversation.

The older man cracked an emphatic smile. “ _There’s_ an idea for an _IColorture_ article. Or a quiz- _‘How well do you know your liquors.’”_

Harry covered his face with a palm, hotel déjà vu hitting him again. "I can't believe I was doing a quiz with you from your own magazine.”

“I can’t believe you ended up _working_ at my magazine- The difference by the way is all cognac is brandy but not all brandy is cognac.”

Harry whispered a little “oh”, impressed and happy to have learned something. “Were they your idea?" he then asked.

Louis gave a questioning look.

Harry clarified. “The magazine quizzes.”

Louis smiled into his snifter glass. "You can say so. I liked to make Jessica add in those little quizzes in the issues. Make it a bit fun." 

Harry grew confused at the name and Louis had to explain that, being part of the team for eight years now, Jessica’s office was one floor below theirs and she was the one responsible for gathering these cool quizzes for the issues.

Harry took a sip of the cognac and screwed up his face. “This is intense.”

“I have it on occasion," Louis rhapsodized. "Reminds me a bit of the old _Moet Chandon Peitit_ my father drank.”

The waiter soon came out with the dishes and Louis put the IPad away. He then mumbled to the waiter to take the bottle back to the kitchen and make Harry a _Sidecar_. Not knowing what a sidecar was but trusting Louis’ judgement, Harry looked at his plate and took a bite.

“Nice?” Louis leaned his gaze to him.

Harry replied with an assenting nod.

“You’re eating one of my favorites; veal in breadcrumbs, fried in butter. It is said that the first dish was served during a banquet held by monks to honor the memory of Saint Ambrogio, protector of Milan. On that occasion, it was called _Lombolos Cum Panitio_.”

“ ** _Cum_ ** _-_ Patito?”

“Pani- _tio_ ,” Louis corrected, oblivious of the allusion. 

" _Cum_ , Panitio," Harry said again, softer and slower this time with a smirk. It was then that Louis ceased pushing his fork, finally catching the joke and going red.

“Don’t ask me why. I don’t have the answer to why that sounds so obscene,” he laughed out loud at Harry chuckling to himself. “Anyway, according to legend the original recipe was breaded with powdered gold. In medieval times gold was considered healthy and curative, and was a common ingredient in nobles’ kitchens.”

“Wow, You’d have to be really rich to put gold through your digestive system,” Harry said, his hunger appeased.

“Or really stupid,” Louis added cheekily as the waiter returned and set a martini glass near Harry’s plate. The rim was sugared and the contents were a yellow translucent color. Picking at the curled lemon peel garnish of the cocktail, Harry took a sip and learned what a Sidecar was. 

He couldn’t stop smiling and staring at the light glaze on the man’s forehead from the long day’s work over his soft pored skin. Harry’s upper body kept involuntarily leaning over the table.

They were having such a good conversation full of laughter. As the meal went on and Harry grew happier, the confusion seeped in as to how this sweet Louis could have stood him up at the bus stop. Louis was clearly still affected by this other Harry. Why else would he be so fidgety around him and open his eyes wider whenever someone called Harry's name at the office? He tried to make sense of it **.** If he had an ex who broke his heart he would not want anything to do with anyone who shared his name. And so far Louis was doing a good job of ignoring their past, but what was the difference now than three years ago when he wanted Harry only up until the moment they parted ways? What happened after to make Louis not want to meet Harry by the bus stop? Harry figured he would gradually get to the truth. Who knows? If Louis had met him at the bus stop, they might have had as much fun as they were having now.

*

After the meal, they exited the frosted glass doors of the restaurant. Louis held it open and his other hand fell on the small of Harry’s back as he escorted him out. Harry found himself sinking into the seemingly platonic touch. Louis bore a contented smile as Harry’s short hair swished in the night breeze. It was all there; the feelings, the connecting, the warmth. Everything Harry had felt in the hotel room was still there, dead in front of him.

In the corner of his eye as they stepped onto the sidewalk he saw the chauffeur waiting by the limo and he stopped, not wanting the night to end.

“So I take it you’re not keen on fashion?” he asked, his movements making the older man stop too.

“It’s not that. It’s just that, I had a vision for my company when I started it, and fashion just wasn’t in it. Recently I've wanted to extend the magazine to Caribbean frontiers. Introduce features on Calypso and Reggae, and explore what it’s like down in the coconut villages. International culture- what the magazine is based on really. But since Dianna got on board she’s been bringing up couture constantly and I’m not so sure I want to go in that direction. It’s proper chaos in the board meetings. You’ll see soon enough.”

They started walking again, a slow stroll, a distant whistling in Harry’s ear alerting him to the romanticism of the moment.

Harry remembered the coconut canopy they sat below at the hotel restaurant and let out a giggle.

Louis must have sensed the laugh had nothing to do with what he was saying about the company, and asked, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I wish you hadn’t eaten those clams,” replied Harry softly.

“Pardon me?” Louis asked again, glancing then looking down as he walked.

Harry chortled, eyes beaming. “Now, suppose I wanted to kiss you goodnight?”

Louis’ face went hot in the mercury vapor light of the streetlamp passing above them.

Harry started to grin showing he was only saying, and Louis let out a laugh of seeming relief which simmered into a reminiscent smile.

They were about to enter the limo when Harry stopped dead in front of it, the white of his eyes getting subtly more apparent. The sullen memory of how he felt when the limo passed him on the bench that day stabbed into his mind.

"Why didn't you come?" he said into the quiet night, the words ringing.

The pleasantly enchanted smile wiped off Louis' face, his eyes guileless. "Harry..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't..." Harry stuttered, turning in the opposite direction.

"I-" the older man started, but Harry had swung to face him again so fast he caught the man off guard.

"You said that you wanted to clear the awkward tension between us,” Harry said, his coat overlapped in both hands, facing him as he agitatedly tapped his heels. “Well, it won't be until you tell me why you didn't come. You know, when you stood me up I told myself maybe he lied. Maybe he's not divorced and he just got to his senses and went back to his marriage." His eyes locked on Louis’ and the man looked harder at him," But then I started working here and I found out that you really were divorced and you really do have kids and a granddaughter… But you didn't come."

Louis looked off into the bustle-cool-down of the city street. "I'm sorry but that whole thing...wasn't- supposed to happen. I'm sorry if I caused you an inconvenience."

"An incon-" Harry’s eyes were moist and red like bleeding tears. “I waited for you for _three hours_."

"And I'm terribly sorry. Maybe we can have this conversation inside?" Louis said, gesturing to the limo as a passer-by peered at them.

Harry dry-laughed at the man's considerate inconsideration. "You look down on me, don't you? You didn't come to the bus stop, because you didn't want to go out in public with a prostitute.” He watched the tiny flash of a crease appear between Louis’ eyebrows. “It makes sense now. Just answer me one thing; A limo -just like this one- passed me while I waited for you. Was it this?" He pointed to the waiting limousine. "Was it you?"

Louis closed his eyes in despondency, unable to answer.

Harry's eyes widened like mad, and his jaw dropped. "Oh my god- You, _asshole_."

Heat stinging at the back of his eyes, he dizzied around and flew back in the direction of the restaurant.

"Harry, you're going back in-" he heard the older man call out but he was not privy to the audience.

He stormed inside, and as he swished by the receptionist booth, the young lady called to him hastily about having a reservation. He stopped only to say, voice unstable; "I need to use your restroom."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but reservations only-"

Harry was about to ask her if she was fucking serious and what if someone were to have a hot shit but the woman was abruptly cut off by an articulate voice tanged with concern saying; "It's alright, we were just in here, don't you remember? Whatever the costs, put it on my bill."

Harry rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth, knowing it was primp, preppy, _peppy primp_ and compliant _Mr Tomlinson_. By intuition he had guessed the man wouldn’t dare challenge the clean-cut façade of a society he was a part of. And here he was now proving it yet again. It was quite alright for a fancy restaurant to cast out the sleazy slut with no reprimand. No, I can only use their facilities out of _pity_ , he thought mockingly. He could feel the man’s eyes on his back, which was already turned to him as Harry quickly stomped off to the restroom.

He went in and closed the door to cry out loud in peace. He sank down on the covered toilet bowl with his hand on his face and sobbed.

 _Why was he such a jerk? He made me believe he was different. How dare he? How could he have passed me that day and not come out and say something?_ It hurt like a box-full of darted nails to know that he was so close to him that day. But since the guy was now his boss, and obviously never felt the same as him, Harry made a point not to overreact. It was a habit he needed to cut out.

He quickly stood up and flipped his hair back, walking over to the sink, opening it and splashing some water on his face. He raked his hand through his hair, sending the water soaking in the top of his head. Then he took a deep breath, smoothing the front of his shirt and back-peddled out of the restroom. He loped out of the restaurant and stopped dead in his tracks- the older man was once again stationed on the pavement in his fitted pristine jacket, waiting by the stupid Limousine. He was not even leaning on it, just standing there looking on tenterhooks.

Harry laughed a sigh into the air as the man’s expression flashed from relief to apprehension to blank on seeing him emerge. He turned down the length of the sidewalk to walk away from him.

"Do you need a ride home?" the man anxiously called after him. Harry stopped and turned around, looking at him with resentment.

"I love my job," Harry stated frankly with a bit of agitation when he noticed the man's eyes rotating sideways. A clear sign of relief on not getting ignored. "I _want_ my job.” Harry’s voice rang stronger. He felt as though he had gained an inner epiphany or come to an agreement within some strong remote part of him where his heart and the rest of him was still stunned. “It may be easier for _you_ to forget what happened in that hotel room- and I can play that game if it means I get to keep my job- but I don't want to go out and dine with you like everything is fine. And no, I don't want a ride home."

He then turned and started down the road, his jacket and laptop bag swinging in his hand as he went past the busy car lights, streetlamps and honking horns.

Harry walked a block, and as he was about to cross the street, his eyes caught a homeless person singing on the side of a building close by. He dipped into his pocket and pulled out all the change he had from buying lunch that day. He walked over to the man and waited for him to take the money before quickly crossing the street and continuing to his apartment another few blocks away. He guessed he had no right to question someone’s ability to feel sorry for the less fortunate. Obviously that was how Louis saw him, otherwise he would have let their affair happen after the hotel weekend. Maybe he didn’t come because his pity had run out.

 _I can't believe he made me ride in the same limo he passed me on the bench in. That bastard!_ he thought still, cradling the anger, turning the keys in his apartment door. _He forgot everything. He forgot that we had a connection. Or maybe he didn't feel the same way as I thought he did. I was just a hired weekend hobby to him. He didn't really have any intention of seeing me after that weekend. I was so stupid. He was a rich divorce` who was just looking to have a good time, not to jump in relationship. And even if he did, it wouldn't be with a hooker._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I reach 70 kudos before I post the next chapter??


	5. Chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I don't know much about magazine companies so forgive the inaccuracies.
> 
> Stay tuned for regular updates. Please comment on the fic and tell me what you think about Harry's character, and Louis' family dynamic.  
> Please can I make it to 70 kudos before I post the next chapter?

**'** **_Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age'~ Anäis Nin_ **

Louis slumped down in his office chair, letting his head fall back to the manuscript he was reading. He did not get much sleep last night; the new employee’s rant outside the restaurant was plaguing his thoughts. Did Harry really think he didn’t care? That he hadn’t looked forward to the movie date _? Of course he thought that, it's what anyone who gets stood up would think,_ a voice abruptly replied, arguing with himself.

He had been trying so hard to keep him at arm's length the past few weeks, putting on his best authoritative face, making sure he knew this new employer/employee dynamic was to be taken seriously. But he kept sending Louis these looks, making these allusions to their time at the hotel, making him remember. Making him forget the position he was in. And now he had expressed how hurt he was about what took place – or didn’t- three years ago.

He picked the manuscript up again: _Why We Should All Stop Eating Seashells_ , _by Harry Edward Styles._ He let out a reminiscent chuckle at the title and where he made an edit note in pencil while reading recently: _‘shouldn’t this word be ‘shellfish’?’_ It had been weeks since he fell into his life again, with a name this time, and Louis was still in shock.

Unable to take another minute of the man hating him, he picked up his office phone. 

"Alice? When Mr Styles gets here send him straight in, will you," he said under pretext of a careless air, pressing the phone back down.

He needed to apologize for being an arse three years ago _and_ last night. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to be alone with him and look at him again. He wished he wasn’t still so drawn to him. At the hotel things were different. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was head over heels back in the suite, they had barely known each other, but his body did comply instinctively to Harry's need for affection and care. He sighed thinking, _wondering_ if that was how he might have been with _his_ Harry if he had showed up in his youth.

He looked down at his hands, all veined and slightly flaccid- It was too late to think about the might-have-beens…

*

**Harry pov**

Out of the slowly abating August heat, Harry’s black men’s slip-on loafer tapped it’s way into the cooler _IColorture_ building for what felt like the millionth time since he started there, work quickly settling into his life like an old shoe. If he still had a job by the end of the day he was determined to forget last night ever happened and get back to work. This job was Harry’s dream come true, not dining at a fancy restaurant with a man who cared nothing for him. The job and the man may be tied together but Harry was going to prove he can separate them in his mind and get on with his life. His dream.

Alice spotted him as he stepped on the floor and gave a hand signal pointing toward the one door Harry swore to himself he was going to avoid today. He growled and whined and in the end took a deep breath and clumped to the man’s office.

"Mr Tomlinson," he closed the door, observing the man struggling to see his computer screen from his spectacles. He yanked them off the moment he realized Harry was there and animatedly put his hands flat on the desk.

"How are we feeling today, Mr Styles?" his eyes flashed over him.

“Are you kidding me?” Harry muttered to himself. It was more to the effect of the damn cologne again whirring his senses than the man’s question. He was still angry but his lower region was just the opposite. His body didn’t care that he’d promised to meet up and then left him hanging without a word. It wanted him.

Louis curled an eyebrow. “That’ how you speak to all your employers?”

Harry wanted to kick something. “Is there a reason you called me in here, Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis learned on the spot to get to the point.

“Just that I’ve read your articles and I’m impressed. They are articulate, and witty, and enlightening. A bit obfuscating at times but they really make me think deeper. If you want them published I suggest you let me know. I have a friend at _The ECOnoMAN_ I can talk to on your behalf.”

Harry rocked back on his heels in shock. Pasting on a frown, he concealed any signs of blushing at the offer. His articles were mostly about environmental care and philanthropic ideas he needed to get off his chest over the years, but never in a million years would he have thought a leading magazine like _The ECOnoMAN_ would even consider...

Louis smirked at his disbelief with, “And no, I’m not kidding. Like I said before, your being here is of value to the company, and it’s a shame _IColorture_ can’t use them, but publishing them somewhere can help set your repertoire as an established editor here too.”

Harry maintained an assertive, _too-cold_ look but still gave a polite “Thank you, Mr Tomlinson,” inwardly confused as to why he was helping him instead of firing him. Guilt must be riddling the poor thing, he thought. Good.

"Louis," Mr Tomlinson corrected.

" _Mr Tomlinson._ ” Harry countered a bit over pitch, aware of the man's offended stare.

He angled away from the table and made to walk out, but before he could exit, a sigh ensued from behind him, and he turned back around to see the man re-situating himself in his seat.

"I should think this means you forgive me for the inconvenience I caused you three years ago, _and_ we can move on from that?" he said, glancing an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry closed his eyes and gave a dry little laugh-nod. "You not showing up wasn't an inconvenience. I thought I had found _the one_ , and I wanted to get to know you like we agreed. So no, it wasn't an inconvenience. It was a wake-up call."

Harry then hit him with cool eyes and walked out.

*****

Another day of sifting through prose of satin, and sashays of frills, of diverting from _Mr Inconvenience_ , was over.

The sun setting and sending a soft glare into his eyes as it left, Harry heard murmuring and a rustle and turned to see the hem of Louis’ trench coat swish by Dianna's door. The man no longer bothered to stop on his way out anymore. Harry doubted it was even about him, of course man didn't go out to dinner every night right? He did have a home. 

But he could bloody well say goodnight, he told himself. _Why the heck would he? You'd just scoff at him like the outright child you've been since a few nights ago,_ the little guy on his other shoulder replied, making him groan as he heard the elevator _tink._

Alone on the floor now with only the sound of the janitor's mop bucket wheels squeaking in the hallway, Harry thought he’d get back to the story he was reading from the old reject box. 

He sifted through the pile and there it was again. ‘ _Herculean Times’_ at the top right-hand corner.

With everything going on with work and Louis he had forgotten about it. Harry knew the journal well. As a child, he used to come across quite a few issues in his dad’s old subscription/ newspaper stacks. Harry loved that journal. That journal... 

-But why does _IColorture_ have old letters addressed to that journal? 

Curious, he spun around to face his computer and typed up the journal title in the search. Opening up a few web pages, he wrapped himself up in the nostalgia of hiding in his room and reading copies as a fourteen-year-old.

Backing out of a web page he pressed the down key, and after a handful of mentioned sites he saw a headline that read _\- ‘Editor of the Herculean Times starts a new magazine bound to color your world.’_

Harry opened it and had to cover his gasp. There it was in bold- _‘New IColorture monthly magazine Editor-in-chief, Louis William Tomlinson is building a new brand that caters to the globe.’_

“That’s where I know the name from. The _Herculean Times_ fine print," he murmured. The editor-in-chief is always in fine print, and coming across it many times while reading, it must have found a tiny shadowy spot in his brain.

But- " _He_ is the editor of that?"

*

**Louis pov**

Louis doubted his office was sound proof, but it was supposed to be at least private enough to drown out the unnecessary laughter like the one he was hearing at the moment from his lounge chair against the exit wall. He had just come back from lunch the next day and was about to begin the latter half of the days’ work over chewing gum and instrumental ballroom music.

Turning his eyes to the door, his brows downward, he was certain it was the distinctive sound of Harry's voice. The man hadn’t spoken directly to him in a week, only coming into his office with Dianna’s folders and dropping them on his desk without looking at him. And whenever Louis came into Dianna’s office and she included Harry in the conversation he would talk but only look at her. Louis hated the escalated tenseness but he knew he deserved it. He shouldn’t have let Harry walk away from the restaurant without the truth and then further make that whole weekend sound like a mistake. It was a mistake, he kept telling himself. It never should have happened. Shouldn’t it?

Heaving off the chair, he stepped up to the glass wall and shifted a few blinders to peek at the scene. Only his eyes were visible to a potential passer-by through the slits, and they widened as he scoped the reason for the boisterous but delightfully infiltrating laughter; Simon, a senior staff member from Inventory. The man’s wrinkled hand sat on Harry's lower back like a spider, making Louis' blood curdle.

Shaking away memories of every conversation he had with the older man where his malodorous breath nearly punched him out, he waited, and as soon as the man walked off to his department, Louis opened his door in a flash.

"Harry?" he said, gesturing him in, the urgency in his tone mixing with the already brewing annoyance. He did not want to think of how Harry could possibly enjoy the man ogling down on him.

He was almost glad to see the smile rip from the young man's face as he heard his name being called. What business did he have with Inventory? What _stale_ joke could take precedence over his job?

Harry chipped over to him, a stack of folders in hand. Once he was inside Louis shut the door and pocketed his hands in agitation.

“I do not condone banter and useless egg taggle around my office when there is an issue to produce,” he upbraided him.

"He asked me out," said Harry immediately without being asked, all sunny. “Badminton.”

Louis wanted to smash something. "What are you doing?” he watched Harry sashay toward the desk. “He's three times your age!"

"What can I say? I like older men,” Harry shrugged, leaning back on Louis’ desk, propping his long arms on the edge, almost suggestively. “Or have you forgotten?”

Louis clenched his jaw. "That was different. We were different."

"How so?" Harry said, folding his arms coaxingly, the smile fading, “Oh yeah, right- because you paid me for that service, and this guy actually wants to get to know me."

He left the desk and stalked towards Louis to pass him.

Louis pulled his hands out of his pocket into the air-conditioned temperature, and a hand came to lightly rest on his bony bicep. "That guy isn’t right for you."

Harry looked down at the happen-placed hand and yanked his arm away. "As opposed to who...you?" He shoved past Louis, eyes dark like molten jade, vein protruding on his forehead.

_There he goes again with the I don’t care about him song- for the love of..._

“You know what,” Louis said as Harry turned to face him again, “This is highly unprofessional. I apologize.” He re-pocketed his hands again while looking at the spot where he touched Harry to allude to why he was apologizing.

Harry rotated his neck wearily. "For the last time, I don't see why we can't put all of this aside and focus on the magazine."

Louis could hear, _feel_ , the sincerity and steadfastness mixed with fear in the young man's voice.

"I fully agree," Louis said, adopting an authoritative tone. "From now on, communication between us is to be strictly work-oriented." He extended his hand for another shake and quickly regretted it as Harry's bigger, softer palm covered the surface of his, melting away his already insignificant desire to be formal with the younger man.

Harry raised both eyebrows sarcastically. "You think?"

Louis smoothed his tie and got behind his desk, sorting out his papers and fumbling to get the last ten minutes out of his veins. He wanted to put on his spectacles and get to it but Harry was still standing there with his folders.

“If you don’t mind, I have quite the workload to get to,” he said, wishing the man would leave.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Harry walked to the desk and paused, mouth open.

Louis lowered his head to his computer.

“You’re the editor of the _Herculean Times_.”

Louis froze like a deer in headlights. He couldn't remember the last time he heard those two words out loud.

Harry looked at him, every trace of anger he had a moment ago visibly subsided and replaced by something resembling admiration. 

Louis gave him a look like ‘your point?’

Harry then brandished a manuscript. “I found these stories in the mail room and they are so good. I know they were rejected before, but I wish you would reconsider.”

Louis dropped his gaze dismissively. “Were they addressed to _IColorture_ , or the _Herculean Times_?” he asked with a snide touch, putting on the spectacles, hoping to discourage the petition. He looked up at him again through them- it had only hit Harry hard enough to visibly incense his previous frustration.

“The _Herculean Times_ , but I beg you to have another look for _IColorture_...”

Louis cut him off quick with a peremptory tone. “There is a reason I did not use them in this venture. I want to keep the magazine light.”

Harry countered. ‘I think you are making a mistake by rejecting these kinds of stories. Maybe not every month but perhaps once every three months or so you can publish one in the latter half of the issue and let the world know you care about what goes on in the godforsaken parts.”

Louis ripped off the spectacles. “Harry, I do know what goes on in those parts. I watch the news. I read other magazines and blogs. I’ve read every single one of those manuscripts that come through here including the ones in your hand. I get it. There are parts of the world that don’t see the sky over the napalm, bomb dogs and military air crafts. There are parts that don’t see the sky at all from their dingy basements hiding in fear,” he shrugged intently. “Did you know that magazines find their way into places, villages where people can’t afford television? My job is to make sure that these villages, these people, however hopeless and isolated they are, can look at something, even if it’s on a glossy page and see that the world is still a beautiful place. If it may give them a bit of strength and laughter I can do that too. _IColorture_ isn’t a dismal magazine.”

The green in Harry’s eyes seemed brighter for some strange reason- the windows were covered and the overhead lights no brighter than before. They frightened Louis as much as awed him.

Harry nodded, dejected, replacing the manuscript on top of his pile but making no move to leave yet. 

“I grew up reading my dad’s old copies of your journals,” he began, a soft understanding tone as he thoughtfully tapped his pen on Louis' desk. “It’s what inspired me to write and become an editor. It is partially why I wanted to work at _IColorture_. Because of what I learned from reading the _Herculean Times_ ,” Harry sighed in a pause. “It’s so funny I never added the two things. I had no clue both were run by the same person,” Harry let out a brief snort.

Louis stared at him straight-faced, getting the humor but not finding any of it funny at all.

“You used to be so brave and fearless,” Harry said, drawing out the words, his eyes never wavering from Louis in deep thought. “The types of stories you posted...” Harry let the words fade out, slowly shaking his head in silent adulation.

Louis took a while to answer before blinking rapidly. “I will take it under consideration,” he said, no change in tone but now holding bold eye contact with a clenched jaw.

*

Later that day Harry was alone at his desk when there was a light, sharp knock on the door. Nick, a company accountant walked in with a papier mache crate of smoking coffee cups. A gangly man in his mid-thirties, he had a flattish, placid face and forward front teeth that always seemed to be visible even with his mouth closed.

“Where is Dianna?” he asked, resting the tray down on her desk and twiddling his fingers on a Tablet in his hand. Harry suspected it had some work thing on it he wanted to show her.

“She left for a bit. Be back shortly,” Harry gave a brief smile.

“I should wait then,” Nick said, drawing out the last word almost like a question. Harry moved his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

Nick pulled a cup out and drew closer, resting it on Harry’s desk. Since Harry had been properly introduced around the office, Nick had been bringing these _coffees_ in. Dianna would smirk and repress giggles until after he left, telling Harry Nick never brought her coffee before. _“It’s a good thing I hired you, aye,”_ she’d tease.

“Thank you,” Harry said, repressing a blush as the man sat on the corner of the desk. He liked Nick, he was a friendly guy, always checked in, made sure he wasn’t lost at sea, but Harry was focused on work and not ready to let anyone distract him from his goals again.

“No problem,” Nick inspected his space.

“Oh look,” he twisted his upper body to pad his fingers on the _Herculean Times_ letters on the desk. “Where did you find them?”

Harry shrugged and gave the mail room sneezing story, and Nick chuckled.

“Wow, I remember indulging in that journal as a kid. It was a staple for me back then.”

Harry smiled, talking a sip of the teeming hot cappuccino. “Me too.”

“I was only twelve when I ran with a gang and dated one of the members, this older guy, Ryder. He’d have a copy in his back pocket and I’d read them while lazed around our ruddy hide-out. Kept us up to date about where we were at with the social stigma. Ryder and I were particularly concerned with the age of consent laws. Pity it stopped publishing.”

 _Twelve? What the fuck,_ Harry fought trying not to wonder just how old this Ryder was. “I asked if he would consider bringing back the same concept to _IColorture_ and he got edgy,” he decided to say instead.

“Do you want to get fired?” Nick’s jaw went slack. “He doesn’t like to talk about it, let alone bring it back. You know that big old protester group, _OutRage_? Violent yet successful protests.., cracked down on closeted politicians..?" 

Harry vaguely recalled.

"Campaigned for the Bolton Seven...?" Nick tried and it clicked this time. The Bolton seven trials were a setting stone for the decriminalization of gays in England and their triumph in court was an inspiration to Harry, who learned about them in his teens. That triumph was heavily assisted by the lgbt rights group _OutRage_ And Harry was rather disappointed in himself for forgetting what he read about the group.

"Well, back in the day, Boss had a affiliation with them. Gave him first preference for news and interviews to do with the group's plans, posted their swarays to keep the community and the population as a whole in the know. According to rumor, he fell out with the group after they learned of his marriage to Eleanor, and he chose to discontinue the _Herculean Times_. You can make your own guesses as to why.”

Harry’s brows snapped together. _So he pushed himself back in the closet personally and professionally..._

*

**Louis pov**

It was the day of the company’s monthly board meeting and Louis was the first to arrive. He was particularly excited to see Crystal today to thank her for the cake she secretly dropped off at the party a few weeks ago. He knew she had not been feeling well that day but was delighted when he saw his favorite of hers- Cheesecake Swirl Carrot Bundt Cake- and had wished she’d stayed to have a piece with him. Besides that day, all the time she had these days for her uncle's company was for board meetings. She was a single mother from the start. Had to be there for every PTA and after school activities, not wanting to miss out on any aspect of her child's life no matter how many times Louis offered to get her a sitter to make her show up on the job more often.

On the other hand, he knew Dianna had things covered. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her position of power these days -and don't get him wrong he was proud- but Crystal was one of the main reasons he embarked on starting this business in the first place, and he hoped she'd eventually take over and run it one day. He was proud of her as well and the mother she was to Nailee. He knew deep down the motivations were rooted in her own mother's absence in her life. As a teen she was sinuous and withdrawn, spending mounds of time in her room blasting some deafening cat-scratching excuse for music on her headphones and rolling her eyes at Eleanor every chance she got. Yet she had a soft spot for Dianna and Freddie and seemed to accept her place in their lives as their adored eldest sibling. Short blond hair and blue eyes, she grew into the splitting image of her father.

Her voice, though, was Hailee to a tea. Louis would jump at times when she called out, thinking either Hailee found him or Niall was visiting him like the ghost of Christmas past. She never got into heavy drugs like her mother- Louis made sure of that- but she did smoke and had a streak for dating the wrong guys.

It was in college that she met Nailee’s father, an Irish lad named Ronan. The guy would pull up on his bike in leather tights, matchstick in his leaky-cornered mouth and red bandanna across his forehead like a renegade punk. Louis would rush out in his primp suit, the fists on his boxed arms clenched, and Ronan would cower like a mouse on his vinyl mount. It was after she had Nailee and Ronan flaked, that Louis began to see a change in her that proved she was strong and able to take care of her child without the dead beat. She had a lot of Niall in her and Louis admired the girl he raised.

Soon enough Crystal padded in. She extended a jolly arm and hugged her uncle for a long time. Now thirty, she was a wisdom beyond her years. Her dress was elegantly formal; calf-high skirted suits with stockings and chiffon scarfs of all patterns to match the schemes. Her blonde hair in a bob halfway down her neck, Louis missed the little ribbons and curls and flowered pastel frocks, but was ever so proud to have done one thing right by Niall- raise Crystal into who she was today.

Then came Nick and Freddie. They sat, yawning and digging their fingernails.

"Good morning. Good morning," a mellifluous voice sounded from behind Louis, and he pressed his tongue on the upside of his mouth. Harry had just walked in with his folder and pen, his hair wet and his jacket missing from his white long-sleeved shirt and tie.

Louis eyed him. He looked as though he had a late night and forgot to set his alarm. Yet he was still on time as opposed to Dianna. He was always so punctual even when _not_ punctual.

Nick lightly waved his fingers with a tiny good morning, and Louis' blood drained on seeing the _Janet Jackson_ smile that erupted from Harry. Nick was a consummate flirt. If Louis had to count the number of times he had to discreetly warn him about office conduct. It was taking _Mount Everest_ to stop Louis from openly berating him right now.

"Good morning to you too, Mister...?" Crystal asked, and eyebrows raised at his appearance.

"Crystal, this is-" Louis began.

"Harry," Harry answered for himself, shifting his folder under the other arm to offer a hand. “Harry Styles.”

Eyes fluttering wider at the outburst of the name, Louis slapped his hand to his tie and fidgeted with it. He looked at Crystal and studied her face as she extended both hands to Harry _. Okay, she's neutral. She doesn't remember... It was a long time ago. She doesn't remember the name of the invisible love of my life. She'd been a baby for god's sake._

"Nice to see you again, Mr Styles."

Harry looked up again at her, confusedly grazing her well features, and then his face went white. He subtly leaned in to Louis, and he might have panicked if he had not felt him stiffen beside him. Louis decided to act natural, trusting Harry would ease off appropriately, but Harry bowed his head like a flogged dog and Crystal was smirking with a side-eye. It was at that very point Louis realized the two had some kind of tension.

“ _Again?_ ” Louis inquired, belatedly catching on to what was said. “You two know each other?”

“We met on what I recall was his first day. Gave quite the impression,” Crystal smirked cheekily, her focus more on the contents of the folder in her hands. “Someone ought to tell Alice next time to hang all the balloons the night before. Causes quite the congestion in the elevator.”

The way Harry went garnet red and started scratching his head timidly like a reluctant match, Louis thought he’d actually catch a fire. It was a good thing Dianna walked in just then to break up the conversation.

Dressed in her thigh-high red skirt and cream blouse with nude heels, she took a seat next to Louis at the meeting table and opened her thick binder folder. Dan followed close behind, walking lazily to a seat like a penguin with a stack of pages in one hand.

Eyes jollily painting over the room to make sure everyone was seated, Louis brought attention to himself and started to address the table. "Okay, first business of the day; next month’s Issue is the annual dedication to influential people around the world -"

"Let me cut you off right there, Daddy," Dianna said, a finger in the air. "I do think it's time for the revamp. I talked to a few people in the modelling industry-”

“The _modelling_ industry,” Louis sighed. “Di, we talked about this. I don't like skinny models encouraging my readers to talk about _fashion_ and _fur._ ”

“Just hear me out. The modelling industry is full of bimbo heads with few making it to influential status, yes. But this company needs the facet. What we need is a face." With her shiny long nails she started handing out manilas to the others to pass around. “One person we can pull from the industry and use as a face for the new _influential people_ Issue."

Louis looked at her through squinted eyes. "What's wrong with the way we have always done it?"

"Everyone is expecting the usual pioneer farmers and influential speakers and authors from all over the globe, but this time we can surprise them with someone,” she searched for the right words, _“fresh and steady._ I was thinking also that the pitch for the Italian branch can benefit from this fresh perspective. The chosen model can be a spokesperson for the new branch of the magazine."

 _Great, not this Italian fashion talk again_ , Louis thought. Dianna was a smart business woman but sometimes it felt like Louis was talking to a one-dimensional model fresh off the pages of _Vogue._ Leave it up to her and they’d have _Kendall Jenner_ on the next cover.

Louis sat up straighter. "I told you I'm not signing off on the idea of a new fashion branch. The magazine is doing just fine as it is _in London._ "

Yawning, Dan jumped into an alert and scooped up the pages he had set down and shoved them for Nick to give to Harry to pass around. Harry then copied Dianna’s tactic of sending them one by one around the table, but Dan cleared his throat and gestured for him to get up and take them himself to everyone. Harry, visibly intimidated by Dan’s authoritative air, did as he was told. When he reached Louis with the page the older man saw that it was the memorandum. Alice must have given them to Dan on his way in the conference room. It bothered him. It was not Harry’s job to act as a secretary. Alice had better have a good excuse why she gave Dan the papers instead of passing them out herself.

"You said if I can prepare a detailed proposal you'd review it. Daddy, I've already scheduled a business trip to Rome," Dianna clarified, as Harry handed her the memorandum and a set of stapled pages before sitting again.

Louis, now leaning back, and pressing his thumb on the cap of the pen, glanced at the focused Harry -whose head was buried in his own copy- and had to drag his eyes away from the beauty to concentrate on what Dianna was saying.

"I set up a meeting with the investor who lives there. He says you two are old friends?" the woman went on, Louis twisting his chair side to side, still fiddling with the pen. He then nodded distractedly, adjusting his chair, really wishing Dianna would just drop the whole Italy thing.

Crystal squinted intently at him from the opposite side of the table.

"I think we can benefit from your friendship with Mr Payne,” Dianna added. “He sounded really pleasant over the phone."

Louis blinked. "Yes, he is a dear old friend, rather nice bloke, helped start up the business, but I don't think Italy is necessary for the company at the moment. Perhaps wait a few years..."- _Or for a certain someone to die of a drug overdose, or old age, whichever comes first_ , he added in his mind, his eyes flashing over Crystal.

"You can at least attend the meeting!?" Dianna said hotly, and Louis sighed. He hated making her mad. She was like her mother when she's mad.

"Uncle Louis, have you taken a look at this proposal?" Crystal chipped in, fingers propped on the manila folder her sister had handed out. "I think it's superb. If we get set up at the house and start on the campaign, all will follow."

Freddie, who had been quiet all this time on his phone screen, lifted his head eagerly. "Can we? I've never been to the house. Only heard Dad's old stories."

Louis sat up like a brick wall. “Leave the house out of this.”

“Oh for God's sakes it’s been sitting there unoccupied for years,” Dianna reasoned. “It has eight bedrooms. At least it can come in handy where setting up a base is needed.”

“Yes, we’ve been to the house once, Freddie," Crystal swung her chair from side to side while holding both ends of her pen with her indexes. "I remember when Uncle Louis finally finished renovating that place. I was ten." She then shrugged at Louis. "You only took us there once.” 

“I remember you cutting the trip short and me screaming all the way to the airport," added Dianna. "And mum being super mad at you."

Freddie’s mouth fell open. “See? I was too little to have these memories. And what about Nailee? She’s worse off. I say we go.”

Louis animatedly lowered his head. Apart from them all ganging up on him he was feeling Harry's eyes glaring down on him. Reluctantly he glanced up and indeed saw hurt, angry, confused eyes under knitted brows looking down at his notepad. He knew this was another screw up reveal, and the man was undoubtedly thinking of how horrible he was to fail to tell him in the hotel suite he happened to own a house in the man's dream destination. It looks bad, but at the time he had planned on taking him. Except circumstances...

"Freddie's right," Crystal contended. "Nailee's never seen where her grandparents lived most of their adult lives."

Louis sighed. He seriously wished she didn't say that...

~~

_Louis rested his eyes on the brown suitcase by the door. What - how did it reach all the way over there? Louis swore he had put it on the dining table on entering._

_"I need to go for a walk as soon as your uncle Griffin gets here," he said to Crystal, grabbing it up and putting it to stand on the table. Checking it, he found all Niall’s spare cash and work sheets inside. He’s so disorganized, he thought with a smile, still keeps his money all helter skelter._

_"I want to go with you, uncle Louis!" Crystal whined, swinging her white stockinged feet over the chair._

_"I wish but I have to transfer you to your uncle. He’s supposed to be here soon."_

_Crystal began to cry. Louis had missed her a lot but to convince himself that leaving was for the best, had let himself forget how much she liked doll tea time with him and listening to his old bedtime stories. But it was all behind them now. He vowed never to leave the child again. And he hoped by dinnertime Niall would give him the answer he so desperately needed to gain his little family back._

_Convincing her that he had no intention of leaving town again, she began to calm down a bit. He was reading her an illustrated copy of Beauty and the Beast when there was a loud knock on the door. Dragging himself up, Louis opened it, and a train-like Hailee rumbled into the apartment. She did a double take on seeing him._

_“My, look who the cat dragged in. Finally remembered you had a niece, did you?”_

_"Never mind me. What are you doing here?" Louis barked. “Niall said you were in some smelly alley getting shot up.” He tried to keep his voice as low as possible for Crystal’s sake._

_"I'm here to baby-sit my daughter. Niall called," she remarked as her eyes fell on Crystal, whose eyes gleamed as she looked up at her mother._

_"El mia angioletta!"_

_Crystal ran to her mother. "Mama!"_

_Louis was not moved. "Baby-sit your daughter? Newsflash- You don't babysit your own daughter, you raise her!"_

_“Who are you to judge? You left like you usually do. I’m doing the best I can. Go back to your daddy’s money and your preppy life. Leave me and my daughter alone.”_

_Hailee was shaking as she held Crystal. She looked like she was about to seize up and collapse with the child in her arms. Louis knew the signs of an addict needing a desperate fix. “I'm not leaving her alone with you. Are you even sober?"_

_Hailee's eyes rolled. "Relax! I'm clean now! Besides, my brother's here."_

_The big broad guy stepped in the door just then. He looked the same as the last time Louis saw him. Like a giant panda. "Hey, Louis, long time no see. Niall asked me to baby-sit but Hay's been staying with me, so she kind of heard everything on the phone.” He gave Louis a silent look of apology on his sister’s behalf. He called me and said you’d be here.”_

_“Yeah,” Louis got into busy mode. He gave Crystal a quick kiss on the head and grabbed the briefcase. "I know Niall trusts you," he said to Griffin, casting a glare on the woman before stepping out the door with the big brown object. "I have to go find him. He took the wrong briefcase!"_

~~

"We're not going. That's that," Louis dismissed, hands bracing the table as he pushed the chair away from it while getting up to leave.

"Just like that?" a shocked Crystal said, ruffling her papers for emphasis. He blinked. He had forgotten how much this one was like _her_ mother too.

“Look, another branch means more work. It means travelling back and forth. The company doesn't need the expense right now.”

"Call a vote," Nick said lazily, eyes in his memorandum, and Louis had to stop dead in his tracks from bolting out the door.

"Nay," Dan said automatically, glaring at Nick, who looked at Louis to be met with another warning look.

"Nay here," Nick muttered, defeated by their stares.

"And that's a _nay_ for me, so..." Louis tossed in, feeling righteous.

"Well, that automatically means we're going to Italy," Dianna closed her folder decidedly.

"That's three against three," Dan corrected.

"The three of us beat out the three of you simply because we're your kids and the future of the company," Dianna said smugly to Louis, palm on the table showing off her manicured nails.

"Wait, wait." Louis began to see three nays would not cut it, and let a thought sneak in. "Harry," he said to the young assistant. “Break up the tie.”

Harry swallowed.

Dan’s eyes narrowed slits at the young man. "That is highly unnecessary."

Freddie turned up his nose. "You can't just give him a vote! He's not even on the board!"

"Neither are you, son, yet for some reason you have a vote," Louis explained temperedly.

“Freddie filled in for Mum, who is on the board of Directors,” Dianna made the point to remind him. “Harry was just hired a few weeks ago.” 

Louis came and stood between Dianna and Crystal, his eyes on the men across the table. "As the Editor-in-Chief, I'm asking Harry. He can fill in for...James."

“Have you even _asked_ James what he thinks?” Crystal put in.

“James isn’t the one who is expected to drop everything and go to Rome now, is he?” he said to his beloved niece, head swerving down at her as his hand gripped the back of her chair.

Everyone turned to the young assistant editor, who gulped, visibly shocked that he was put in such a spotlight.

"Italy is a majorly resourceful country with a rich culture that cannot be displayed in the media enough if you ask me,” Harry slowly let out, a smile growing on his lips. “There's always something to learn about it, so there will be lots to put in the magazine issues should you expand. Plus, I've always wanted to see Rome."

Dan rolled his eyes but remained quiet. Freddie let out a scoff.

 _Okay, fine._ Louis thought with another sigh, looking at the excited expression on Harry’s face that he somehow planted there- he realized- in a twisted, ironic way. He was hoping the lad would read his mind and say nay, or just do it because Louis was the higher authority, but _no_. On the bright side, going to Italy would undoubtedly take Harry's attention off of the old guy in Inventory.

Crystal unsuccessfully tried to shield her grin at the outcome of her uncle’s efforts.

"This new venture is going to bring in results, Daddy," Dianna gave one last push of encouragement.

Defeated by majority, Louis slammed his folder shut. "Looks like _all roads lead to Rome."_

*

"Harry,” Louis stopped behind him sheepishly as he was about to enter the elevator. The man's hair had dried and was now toppled on his head in fresh, light curls as he turned to him.

They hadn't spoken much since yesterday and Louis needed him to talk to him, or _look_ at him again. He had no intentions of reviving old _Herculean Times_ articles, though it had been a strangely pleasant hearing someone mention the old journal again after so long. And Louis was flattered at the accolades, but that phrase ‘used to be’ had began to peevishly crunch his vertebra.

"I'm impressed with what you did back there. Even though you took their side, it was fair."

"Why would you put me in a position like that?" Harry rounded on him, flapping his folder and glaring. "We said 'strictly professional.' If they suspected any further why you asked my opinion- an entry-level employee- on a matter beyond my jurisdiction, what would we have said?"

"I guess I really needed an impassive voice." Louis blew a laugh as he looked down and briefly shut his eyes. "But I guess it wasn't that impassive since you did say you wanted to go... I um... I know three years ago I-"

Harry whipped his hand from his hair to his side and blew an impatient sigh. "You what- told me you _used_ to live in Rome but failed to mention you _still_ own an eight-bedroom house there? You ran the _Herculean Times_ from Rome in the beginning, of course you have a home there.”

Louis’ face went scarlet knowing he probably googled him finally. Harry noticed it.

“Look, if you're trying to apologize, I don't have a passport, so maybe you can help me with a reference and I'll forgive you for whatever it is you're apologizing for."

"Okay. I can do that," Louis said, happy Harry was talking to him again.

Harry then turned red all of a sudden. “Who is James, by the way?”

Louis answered briskly. “James Corden. He’s on the board of directors. A dear friend. One I will be leaving in charge of the London branch when we leave for Rome. He’s perfectly capable.” He smiled stupidly at the young man. "Um, I was just heading out for lunch if you’d like to join me and discuss the magazine some more?"

Harry grinned coyly at him, his upper body moving before his feet in leaving, "I said forgive, not forget, _Mr Tomlinson._ "

Louis couldn't help but grin as he watched him walk off into the elevator and press the button.

*

Later that evening in Louis’ office, he and Crystal both marked off dates and checked Alice’s schedule for the trip. It turned out the reason the latter skipped the meeting was because Dianna had told her to get right on booking tickets, and hiring cars for their visit to Rome. Louis didn’t even bother confronting Dianna about arranging that without asking him first, or what made her so sure the meeting would go her way. After all this is how he raised her. To be a tycoon that didn’t take no for an answer. He just didn’t think that one day he’d be on the receiving end of it.

Shoulders tense from the day’s tasks, he rotated his neck and blew an exhale which caught Crystal, making her twist a concerned eyebrow at her uncle. 

"Dan briefed me on the Finch buzz earlier. The press just won't let that go. If it flares up again we might have to publicly address it."

Forlorn that Dan would worry her about that, Louis sighed again.

"Forget the whole thing for now,” he dismissed. 

Bitter remembrance had it's way and he quickly retracted; “I still can't believe the press used my marriage to question the company's integrity. It was only an eleven-year difference, and seventeen _was_ legal in those days if both parents consented."

His niece’s eyebrows went higher. "Yep, you do not want to go up on a podium and say that. If it comes to it Dan will have to brief you on what to say. The laws are different now. The age of consent is stricter, and you saying that opens up a whole new can of worms, uncle Louis. The news media is always looking for a story where there is none. No use giving them one on a silver platter."

“Trust me. I have no intention of giving them a candy day. Just gonna go about my business like Dan advised. It's worked so far.”

They worked in silence for a minute straight before Crystal lifted her head again.

"So,” she said, treading carefully with her words, “the newbie’s name is _Harry."_

Louis' head snapped up to see a smirk under a fancy eyebrow staring back at him. And to think he almost got away scotch free.

*

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously need to know what you guys think of what is happening in this chapter.


	6. Chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you guys prefer the summaries. Tell me if you want them.
> 
> I decided to share the character moodboard I made while writing, so from top left clockwise is Dianna, Freddie, Crystal, Dustin, Nick, Louis, Harry, Niall, Hailee, and Nailee. I didn't add some characters but that's okay I did this early on just to get a feel of what I was writing. The pics were all from google and are not mine. 
> 
> Please enjoy the story.

****

**~' _Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind it doesn't matter' ~ Mark Twain._**

Autumn crept in, sidewalks soaked and covered in erythrophylla, morbid black umbrellas up and down the streets of London as their owners trudged to their evening destinations. Louis stood at his office window looking out at the drizzle.

The office door opened without a knock, and Louis turned wondering who dared enter without a warning. 

It was Dan. And he wasted no time in explaining.

"I don't think it's a good idea to take that boy to Rome." It had only been two days since the meeting and they were scheduled to leave tomorrow. The fact that Dan waited until now to voice his concerns was baffling to Louis.

"That _boy_ is Dianna's editorial assistant. I don't understand your concern."

“As you know, it is my job to know all that transpires around here?"

"Your point, Dan?" Louis asked, shrugging.

"I know about the hotel Lamure."

Louis' jaw shut. Tight.

"I know you spent quite the weekend there with the young man. Trust I was extremely concerned when he recently showed up on our roster."

"And I'm extremely concerned that you failed to inform me of your invasion of my privacy!" Louis said hotly. “How long have you known?”

"Three years. And mind you, I was only respecting your privacy by keeping it to myself. But I fear my sixth sense is leading me to believe this Harry has intentions that surpass the daily requirements of an editorial assistant. I think you should be cautious as to what his endgame is to show up here after so long like he has unfinished business with you. I must ask, did you pay him well? For the weekend, that is."

"Nothing happened!" Louis exploded. "I went there… I don't know what I was doing there, but all I know is we got on really well and it didn't go farther. Because I didn't let it, okay?"

"Because of what happened with Finch?" Dan asked like a statement.

"Partially, yes. Look, you called to inform me about Finch in the nick of time and... Look, I don't want to discuss it further."

"All I'm saying is taking him to Italy is a bad idea. You wanna dance with this guy? Keep him in the bedroom, not in the business."

"Well, Harry’s not going to be anywhere near my bedroom, but he works here now, so deal with it."

Dan raised his chin and an eyebrow, and Louis opened the door to see him out. 

Alone now, Louis clenched his fists in the air ruefully. It was already embarrassing that Dan knew all this time, and he didn’t need the man’s admonishing on top of the tension between Harry and him. At the restaurant Louis had not told him what he wanted to hear but the truth was that Louis had fallen for him and had to let him go.

*****

**Harry pov-**

“Bruce must be so choked up in cargo,” Harry heard the little short-haired girl next to him at the boarding gate say.

Louis chortled. “It’s all climate-controlled, Nay.”

It was a lovely Tuesday morning and they were about to board the plane bound for Italy; Nick sweet talking someone on his cell, Dianna on her IPad, Louis holding his granddaughter's hand while Crystal dug around her handbag, making sure she had everything she needed at hand for the first-class cabin. Dan had let them go ahead, said he would arrive in time for whatever press conference they may need to hold for the magazine campaign.

“You must be Nailee,” Harry said, leaving out the whole _‘y_ __our_ grandfather told me a lot about you’ _bit for fear it may sound like he was way too personal with the boss even though he bloody was. He caught eyes with Louis. The man was wearing a mid-grey suit, unbuttoned over an ivory turtleneck, and sending redolent tones of cologne to Harry’s nostrils. If Harry happened to get a seat near him, he wondered how he was going to survive this trip.

“Yes. And this is my granddad, although he’s really my great uncle but he doesn’t like to be called that. I think he says it makes him too ancient.” The little girl spoke rather scholarly, pursing her lips to the effect.

Harry looked at him again and noticed the new wave of guilt. But Harry had already found out from Nick and Alice that Crystal was not really Louis' daughter but this Niall person's, and so when she called him Uncle Louis in the meeting Harry had not been in the least surprised.

“Well," he returned his gaze to the girl, "I’m sure it’s also because he feels closer than that. Being a granddad makes him in direct line to be responsible for you. He loves you like a granddaughter instead of, say, merely a sibling’s grandchild.”

“That sibling would be my granddad Niall. He died many years before I was born.” Harry looked up again at Louis for a second, touched that he would keep his friend so alive in the girl’s mind even though she never got to meet him.

“Well, now that we established that I am indeed your _not-so-ancient_ granddad,” Louis mumbled scooping up her thick bangs from behind and kissing her exposed forehead. “Let’s get going. We have a plane to catch.” He took the child’s hand and gave Harry a polite smile as the queue shifted.

*

They arrived in the early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky. Rome was surreal. Tribes of pilgrims in the streets, the smell of food Harry had only heard of, cobbled roads that he couldn’t wait to get out of the chauffeured car and run barefoot on. He took the car with Nick and Freddie while Louis rode with the girls. The car wheels made a drumming sound on the cobblestones, adding to Harry’s overall excitement. 

Soon they reached a street with clumped houses, that was free from commerce and traffic of any kind.

It wasn't a total nightmare getting from the airport to the house on Esquiline hill. The travelers had arrived separate from their luggage, and Nailee had a good cry while declaring never to speak to her mother again for not waiting till her dog, Bruce, was out of cargo. As soon as Harry came out of the car she ran up to him and took hold of his hand, scowling at her mother. 

Louis took it upon himself to show everyone around, only happy Nailee found Harry good company to cheer her up until the luggage arrived.

And Harry gasped. When Dianna said _‘house’_ it had been the understatement of the century. Harry stepped onto the driveway, mouth agape and fingers shaking with wonder at the sights around him; Holm oaks and periwinkles strewn with red brick and fine hedges of vines that made his deepest fairy tales come alive. The house was large- almost a mansion- but old fashioned with a feeling of old comfortable Italy. 

The building was a cozy, traditional architecture with fancy see-through blocks at the top to let in air in the Tyrrhenian climate. The long, train-like terrace with large double doors separating it from the inside, looked open and inviting. Victorian plant-stands every yard or so woven in between the spiral pillars, flowers and succulents tumbling out of them, offering timeless charm. Harry found it hard to keep his balance with the realization that he had finally arrived at a place like this. 

As they walked up to it, the double doors were already open and they entered the Foyer. The first thing to catch Harry's eye was a wooden coat rack with brass hooks punctuated by a graceful, hand-carved flower. The entire thing was framed by a stunning scroll pattern, a stylish yet simple feature to the airy space, which was floored in beige marble. 

A bubbly, robust woman met them there and introduced herself as the housekeeper, Marietta. She was pleasant with Italian greetings rolling off her heavy tongue to the excited guests, and Louis replied to her in the same tongue, hugging her like an old friend. Harry focused on peering into the deeper interiors to distract himself from how hot the man sounded speaking fluently in the language. Crystal, letting out a few Italian words herself, then said in English that she remembered Marietta from their last trip there.

After taking Harry in a bear hug, rubbing her hands over the animal print shirt on his back, Marietta quickly excused herself to go finish preparing dinner and they all continued inside. They crossed into the cavernous entryway to the main living room and it made Harry wonder why there was even a foyer if this space was still not the living room. The first thing to be seen here was a console table that emanated class and sophistication as well as business, bringing Harry back to the main reason they were there, to work. Warming up the decor was a floral centerpiece that looked fresh, and on the wall hung a large mirror to complete the look. Harry would have been excited about a blank wall but it was all marvelous. 

The actual living room now, as they entered, was slightly more cozy. A large maison lounge sofa in the middle against the backdrop of rusty clay colored walls that continued throughout the entire space, a grand piano in the corner by the luminous double doors that led to the gardens Harry previewed on the way in.

It was all eye-catching but Harry's interest was stolen by a lamp on the side table; two naked men hugging, or wrestling as the base. Louis, whose eyes were on and off Harry the whole time, cleared his throat and dashed to the sofa, grabbing a blanket and draping it over the lamp, looking around to see who noticed. Harry tried to repress his laugh but his face still moved to form dimples, making Louis blush and his eyes to beckon Harry to stop.

Luckily Nailee, who had quickly got over her rage, did not see, and took both their hands as Louis let them through the side doors to the gardens. 

Marigolds, chrysanthemums, roses of every color stood in luscious rows along the grass to the left of the house. Harry's entire face lit up on seeing them and he asked Louis for permission to pick a few, which the man did not mind at all.

“Careful there,” Crystal who kept close behind said as Harry and Nailee started picking. The little girl stuck a rosebud in Harry’s hair after Louis broke it off from the thorny stem so as not to prickle her tiny fingers or scratch Harry's scalp.

"Doesn't he look pretty, Granddad?"

A failing serious face crossed Louis as Harry blushed up at him. "Yes, that rose does look nice, doesn't it?" 

With tossing her uncle a silent look, Crystal steered her daughter away. “Come on. Let’s go see where Bruce is going to sleep.”

Louis was left strolling with Harry as he picked a handful of different flowers. Louis looked back at the house where Nick's, Freddie's, and Dianna's voices could be heard laughing and applauding the interiors, and he politely gestured for Harry to allow him continue the exterior tour. 

In the backyard, the parallel-wave shaped pool was situated with sun loungers aligned on the side farther from the house. Louis zealously explained that against the dewy night sky, the pool would be inwardly lit, creating a zaffre blue neon effect that threw its gorgeous light on anyone venturing near it.

Folding his arms timidly, Harry admired it from afar. "I love everything about this place. I'd take a swim, if only I wasn't afraid of pools, the ocean etcetera."

"I know. I remember," Louis let out a little smile, eyes falling on Harry's chin. “We should get settled in.” He spread out an arm toward the interiors.

*

Sniffing the flowers in his hands, Harry traipsed behind a very soldier-like Louis as the man led him down a dim corridor to his room. Crystal had taken Nailee to settle in while Dianna and the others explored the compound, leaving the two men alone. 

As they walked down the narrow hallway of the split level house, Harry observed the man’s hands behind his back and his shoulders straight as they walked, and unconsciously tried to copy him. He quickly fell back into his slouch when he realized he was too nervous and excited to try.

The man stopped and pushed a large embossed oak door open.

“This will be your room for the duration of your stay,” Louis presented with an open-arm gesture for Harry to walk in first. “As you can see, your luggage is already placed so you can start unpacking right away. I will leave you to it.”

Harry crossed the threshold and Louis disappeared, feet echoing down the hall.

Alone now in the strange room, Harry let out a sharp breath and looked around; Georgian footstool near the bed, large cold tiled floor... Harry had never been in such a palatial room before. A grand antique armoire stood in the corner serving as the focal point of the room with a perfect balance between ornamentation of masculine orthogonal shapes and more feminine floral carvings that framed the doors in an accentuating way. A scalloped ogee crown adorned the top to complete the regal look of the French Louis XIII style. 

Next to the bed was an incongruous medium-brown valet stand with a lacquer finish. Harry dragged it aside and began to unzip his luggage, deciding to put all his clothes in the Armoire. 

Slipping off his Taking out his iPod, he punched the icon to play _Roll with It_ by Steve Winwood and started unpacking to the music. The only feminine things he brought with him were some lace undies and a perfume he liked to wear during transitions. Everything else was male suits, sweats, and casual wear.

 _‘Then you’ll see life will be so nice, it’s just a step up to paradise,’_ Harry belted out dancing side to side in his rosewood jeans, his socked feet sliding on the tiles.

Halfway through the song and two trousers to go, he made a spin and caught Louis in the doorway again. He was sarcastically looking at the watch on his wrist, a look of suppressed mirth on his face.

Panting and pulling his earphones off, Harry shut off the music immediately, clearing his throat, scraping a flyaway hair from his eyes.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I was waiting for you to finish.”

“I’m trying to shake off the jetlag,” Harry explained, breath choked.

“After a two-hour flight?” Louis said, a narrow grin creeping up on his smug face.

Flushing, Harry gave him a face. 

Louis grinned full on. “Anyway, I only wanted to remind you, dinners are formal, breakfasts are on the patio. I trust you received the dress code email?”

Harry nodded over-attentively. “I did.”

“Dinner will be promptly at eighteen hundred hours.” Louis glanced at Harry's heaving chest and smiled courteously.

He left the room once again and Harry tossed himself backward on the bed, completely embarrassed.

Harry fidgeted with his tie and jacket. Zayn had taken him shopping after he took a good look at the dress code for the Rome trip, and the slim fit suit had looked like a fashionable choice when he had tried it on in the store, but now it seemed Harry had put on a few pounds in a few days’ time. He wished he had tried it again before he left for the airport. He might have gotten a bigger size but he was now about to go into the dining room for dinner.

As he hit the arched entryway with the flowers in his hands he inwardly panicked when he glanced at everyone already seated. A quick look at the unoccupied table setting directly opposite Louis told him he was going to have to try extra hard to act normal tonight. The tightening around his bicep proved that he would also have to eat less, and the large venison dish with green all around the platter which smelled amazing, was not helping. And what’s more a big brown dog was now coming up to him and smelling his feet, drawing more attention to his awkward presence.

“Bruce,” he heard Crystal lazily call the mutt off. “Harry, why are you all dressed up? It's steaming under these lights. Take that jacket off.” Crystal always spoke with authority hanging on the edge of her tongue that sometimes made Harry feel intimidated- and his shame about the elevator incident may have played a part-, but tonight he couldn’t be more grateful. Without looking up, he immediately squeezed out of the wretched thing, hanging it over his chair.

As he sat down he looked around at the others and mashed brakes. Crystal was in a cotton house dress, Dianna in a pair of jeans and crumpled T-shirt- which Harry had never seen her dressed like that before- and Freddie had on a basketball sleeveless Tee. Those were Louis’ kids so he reckoned to himself they got a pass, but what startled him more was that when he looked down the table, Nick was in a large _sweater and khakis._

He glanced across at Louis, who was sitting opposite him, and caught the man staring at him. Louis himself was in his usual work clothes but this time the white shirt was without a jacket or a tie, the sleeves almost casually rolled up a few folds. _Almost_ because even with the attempt he still looked rigid and ready to start a full day's work even at this hour.

A smile had just been dissolved on his otherwise stoic face, and if the lighting was correct there was a slight blush going on. Harry let run a massive blush and tried to hide it behind gritted teeth and slitted eyes. Feeling set up, he shot Louis a look to communicate his horror and was met with a ‘no need to worry’ face.

“Seriously, uncle Louis, we need to do something about this heat," Crystal fanned her face with her dinner napkin oblivious of Louis' disapproving look. "Imagine working here in the upcoming weeks. We’ll all be so drained and dehydrated.”

“What can I say, drink more water,” Louis said with a shrug, cutting into his dish.

Harry widened his eyes at the man and Nailee caught it. She let out a giggle, leaning to tell Harry: “He’s not usually this insensitive.”

Harry grinned, remembering the flowers as Nailee picked up a few from the bouquet between them.

“I’m not insensitive," Louis was saying as Harry tucked the bunch in the water jug and arranged it appealingly. "This place has so many open spaces for fresh air. You just have to get accustomed to Rome. Go more outdoors.”

“Speaking of outdoors,” Freddie said, “Can I take the bike out for a spin?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What else is there to do in this god forsaken place?”

Harry frowned. God forsaken was the last thing he'd ever call a place like Rome.

Louis shook his head dismissively, cutting his beef. “Ask Crystal and Di. It was them who suggested we come here in the first place.”

“Wait- are we talking about a _motorcycle?_ ” Harry said.

“Yes, a Harley Davidson,” Louis said as Nailee hand fed a whining Bruce from her plate. “Got it on my twenty-fourth birthday.”

Harry was impressed. There was no way he’d have placed the man in front of him with a motorcycle. 

“Haven’t seen it in years,” Crystal added, taking a spoonful of food to her mouth.

“I’m sure it is in as good condition as you, Daddy,” said Dianna with a smile.

“Great, so _can I_?” Freddie dismissed, pressing on.

“No.”

Freddie scoffed. “Whatever, it’s dated anyway.”

“Timeless. There’s a difference,” Louis smiled smugly, and Harry nodded in agreement, blushing as their eyes met once more.

Freddie loomed his sulking eyes to Harry and then the flowers. "Where's Marietta? I need some more water but I see the pitcher has opted to offer a housing arrangement for this Imbecile's lame attempt at décor."

"Freddie!" Crystal gasped, turning to her daughter to see if the bad words registered. The child was indeed hurt.

"They are my flowers," Nailee said. "Harry and I picked them, you gutter gnat."

Crystal dropped her mouth in horror at her daughter's outburst.

But Harry, who was beginning to feel hurt too, let out a snort and looked at Louis who had only noticed his work when Freddie mentioned it. He did not look pleased with the new centerpiece himself but he had sent Freddie a good hard look of chastisement for his rudeness.

Freddie buried his head in his food. "Sorry Nay, I didn't know you were involved."

"What does that have to do with it?" Louis admonished him, his frown deepening. "What the hell is the matter with you? Apologize."

Crystal winced at Louis' choice of words and slapped her hands on Nailee's ears again.

Freddie mumbled something incoherently at the same time Harry said it was fine and they both went quiet.

"At least it looks better than those ghastly things," Dianna said, scowling at the tall clay amphoras in two corners of the room. 'Where did you get those awful jugs, Daddy? Looks like you went digging up an ancient buried city and was too late to get the good stuff."

Freddie chortled. Louis threw Dianna a wounded frown.

Harry swallowed his food quickly to say, "I think it's articulately placed. I actually like most of the house's traditional décor."

Dianna held firm. "It is hideous. We need to hire an interior decorator to spruce things up and make it spring back to life before we're mummified along with it."

Harry rejoined with a shrug, "I think some things get better with time." He found Louis' eyes as he said it and witnessed a deep blush and a grateful little smile.

*

“Boss, no wonder you hate Rome, this place is a furnace!” Nick sprawled out on the couch, fanning himself with his work sheets the next day. “I tossed and turned all night last night. And the mattress was _amazing s_ o it's not that.” They had all begun their first day’s work at the house and it was proving a pain.

“No fear. The solution to that problem should be arriving soon.” Louis strutted off smugly, leaving everyone baffled.

“I hope it’s a boulder of ice, because _I’m_ about to melt,” Nick complained.

They powered through the morning and took a break for lunch out on the patio to catch the scarce breeze. Dianna and Freddie on a call with their mum, Nick was listening to Crystal chat to Harry about his pizza and her cake recipes when a delivery truck pulled up to the gates.

Before Crystal could get up, she saw Louis stroll out into the driveway and sign the delivery papers, Bruce padding behind him in the sun.

The delivery guy then offloaded ten large boxes and wheeled them inside the foyer on Louis’ directions.

Louis stopped and looked up at the others in the patio. “Aren’t you curious to see what I got you?” he gestured.

Nick was the first to jump up, and they all descended.

“Vintage VFans,” Louis clipped as Crystal knived open one and pulled out a shiny black, strange looking fan. “For every room in the villa.”

“Isn't that a bit costly,” Harry piped up, leaning to see the make and brand.

Louis gave a little condescending laugh as he pulled a red one out a box. “It’s alright Harry, I’m perfectly capable of affording a couple fans.”

“That’s not the point. If you have to spend so much why not buy something more effective, like air conditioning.”

“You realize this house has open spaces right? And air conditioning can be expensive and run up electric bills.”

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of affording that,” Harry fed his words back to him in a mocking deadpan with side-hip and folded arms.

Nick’s mouth was now open with entertainment and Crystal was eyeing her uncle, fighting back a laugh.

Louis turned to her. “Tell him about Nailee’s asthma. She can’t be too much in the cold. The fan is better for her.”

Crystal rattled out in a croaking noise hesitantly. “Yeeeah, she does have problems with air conditioning.” She gave Harry an apologetic face.

Harry’s eyes widened in defeat and a mixture of rue and resentment.

“I bought them online. I can’t take them back anyway.” Louis sighed flapping his arms to the side but Harry either ignored him or didn’t hear. “Decades ago, the people at V products focused on finely tuned aerodynamics resulting in a product that had the ability to circulate all the air in the room,” he said, plugging in one to test it out. “In an era without air conditioning, everyone was able to feel cool and comfortable without standing in front of the fan...” Louis continued speaking and faded out when he realized Nick was holding the fan up to his hair like an oasis in a dessert with his eyes closed in gratitude, Crystal muttering to Harry about the weight of the item, no one listening to a word he was saying.

“I read about that in an issue of _IColorture_ a few months ago," Harry said, noticing Louis’ peeved look. He was impressionably recollecting, causing Louis to halt in astonishment that someone his age actually read that.

“Fine. Keep the fans,” Harry continued. “I’m taking the red one.” He grabbed the fan and marched out of the room with his chin cocked up high.

*

“You wanted to see me?” Harry found himself in Louis’ study that afternoon after Marietta relayed the message. The older man was busy opening and searching through an old ratty-smelling chest of drawers for god knows what.

As he heard Louis’ confirming hum, Harry closed the door and made a quick scan of the place; Same classic furnishing style Honduran mahogany theme he noticed throughout the house; Big old fauteuil armchair with dirty-mint-green velvet padding that would look much healthier in full light; The mahogany desk organizer with five partitioned cubicles, cute neat dimensions and filled with rubber bands and mail and other paper, though sophisticated, had a certain ancient charm. 

His eyes moved to the wall over a dingy couch where a humongous Flemish painting of a man kneeling to pet a dog. The animal had a ghastly wound on its mouth from obviously trying to eat the hard seashell clutched in its paw in the piece. It was exceptional detail but way too macabre for Harry’s taste. Everything in the room screamed old money, but the true eye-catcher was the rolling library ladder affixed to the ceiling-high bookshelf that took up the entire width of a wall filled with old editions of classic novels from _Edith Wharton_ to _Charles Dickens_. Harry thought it magnificent even though it was in the same seemingly mundane mahogany. He stepped over to it, squinting to see the words on the spines of the books in the dimness of the room.

“Does everything have to be so dark in here?” he asked, feeling like he was drowning in shadows.

Turning to face Harry, Louis flickered a frown. “That’s the aesthetic. These are all custom pieces. Every chair is carved, sanded, and finished by hand to ensure authentic quality down to the minutest detail.” The man waited for Harry to rebut, then got to the reason for summoning him when Harry cocked an impatient eyebrow.

“How is the fan working?” he said, voice sounding muffled as he turned back to the drawers. He pulled out an old dusty round bottle of a green color, a satisfied look on his face. He blew on it and set it on top of the chest, dusting his hands on his trousers.

“You were right actually,” Harry lied, taking in a large breath. “It works like a charm.”

Closing back all the drawers, Louis went off into a _dissertation_. “The air circulates better so the room feels up to five degrees cooler. That makes it cheaper than air-conditioning.”

“Did you call me in here to gloat?” Harry moved toward the desk.

Louis cracked a smile as he set the bottle down on his desk next to a quill and ink set. “Far from. My maternal grandfather worked in a factory that made them.”

Harry’s eyes looked around his face, blinking. It was hard to picture Louis from a modest background.

“He was a mere minimum wage worker, but I guess I wanted to honor him in some small way. Posthumously.”

Harry drew out a nod, trying to sympathize, but the growing bead of sweat trailing down his spine had otherwise to say.

“He must have been a swell guy,” he surmised.

Louis broke his trance and shifted. “I never met him. Died before I was born,” he said passively. “Anyway, moving on. I know it’s not in your job description but I was hoping you could help set up an itinerary for Nailee to go sight-seeing. It has to be this weekend. We will be busy with the magazine the rest of the week.”

Harry’s countenance brightened. “What places should we visit?”

“I don’t know,” Louis sat on the edge of the desk and clasped his hands. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with this city. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

Blushing in excitement, Harry's gaze wandered around the room and fell on a set of pictures on the fireplace mantle. There was one of a younger Louis with a blonde guy Harry figured was Niall, a brunette woman and a little girl he recognized as a little pigtailed Crystal, all grinning and hugging each other. The picture looked aged with a brown rusty-looking stain splattered on the edges. He moved his gaze over another frame. This one was Louis by himself with suspenders and a beret on.

"Is this you?" He pulled it down.

Louis gave a quick glance. "Yeah, I was eighteen and had just arrived in Rome.”

"You look so different," Harry grinned, his fingers smoothing over it. "I mean it's you but you look so full of adventure and hope here. Rome must've been the perfect place for you at that time."

"That was ages ago," Louis said hastily, getting up to walk behind the desk and sit in his armchair. 

Harry's eyes scanned the other frames of his children and their mother. "So tell me how you met your ex-wife. You must've been so happy when Dianna and Freddie were born."

Organizing papers now, Louis' head came up for only a second as he spoke. "Eleanor was already pregnant with Dianna when we wed. She is technically my step-daughter. But I'm her father in every way that counts."

"Oh. So just Freddie is-"

"-Also technically not mine," Louis cut in, attention now fully on Harry. "There was a time when I thought he was. But that's all water under the bridge."

Harry blinked away the thought of Louis having sex with the brunette in the picture. Come to think of it, Dianna and Freddie really did look nothing like him.

"Sebastian," Louis said, reading the questions on Harry’s face. "Their biological father’s name is Sebastian. And he got Thanksgiving while I got Christmas." The man's voice fell significantly as he said it. "What else do you want to know besides my ex-wife's love life?"

“So you were okay with sharing her?” Harry said almost immediately.

“She wasn’t mine to share,” Louis answered flippantly as though giving quick advice on what font color for an article header.

Harry gave the pictures one last look and folded his arms toward Louis. "Why did you marry her, then?"

Louis twiddled his pen. "She was a seventeen-year-old pregnant debutante with rich parents who ran in the same circle my parents did. Her virtue was at stake if she couldn't find a suitable husband before everyone saw her baby bun. My mother needed the marriage to re-establish her upper-class ties after my father died along with his rank. Sebastian was a coal miner, so to Eleanor’s parents I screamed ‘stability.’ You do the math."

"So both of your parents rather you two marry people you would never be happy with,” Harry said sadly. “The world was pretty fucked up in those days.”

Louis looked him dead in the eye. "I have no regrets. My mother fared better in the only lifestyle she knew, Crystal got the family she deserved, Eleanor was happy, her kids were happy, and Sebastian was grateful in the end."

"And what about you?" Harry blurted out. "Were you happy? Seems to me you gave up a lot for your marriage.” He couldn't help it if he cared how Louis fared all those years. Wondered about the other mysterious _Harry_ and what role he had played in it. Harry bet Louis must have had to break up with this Harry because of the falling out with _OutRage_. He must have chosen the lie with this Eleanor over a life with that Harry.

"I'm busy, Harry.” Louis lowered his gaze. “Tell Marietta if you need anything."

Harry did not move. "What about _Harry_? When did you meet him?"

Louis looked up, caught by surprise. His gaze faded into a blur and it was a couple seconds before he blinked out of it.

"Close the door on your way out, Ha-" was his reply to the question.

Harry understood he was about to say the name but stopped. Why? Who was this Harry who hurt Louis so bad that he could not even bring himself to sound out his name?

“Did he hurt you? Did you break it off with him because of your marriage?”

“I didn’t... meet him. He was a...” Louis searched hard for a word, “a pen pal,” he settled himself with, boring into Harry’s eyes for a blink second and turning away.

Harry turned his head in shock, eyes glued to Louis. “A pen pal?” 

Louis nodded quickly. “We never got the chance to meet.”

“You’re all sad and reclusive because of a _pen pal?”_ Harry’s voice was somewhere between a cackle and an outcry.

“I’m not sad and reclus- He was a lot more than that to me,” Louis countered but then shook his head and sighed sharply. “Look, Harry, I’m quite done discussing my personal life with you. Can we flip the professional switch now please?”

Harry wanted badly to say no, the heck with the professional switch, but the hard lines in Louis’ face echoed in somber pain, and Harry had compassion.

“Okay. But when you’re ready to talk about it I’m here.” He turned and slowly made his way out the door without a reply from the man.

*

**Louis pov**

It was a quarter past eight when Louis finally dragged himself away from the mountain of work Dianna had left him with in her pursuit of a change.

Pushing through the study door and into the atmosphere of a house with actual sound, he roamed the halls to clear his mind from work. Or from Harry. Old and New. Fuck them both. Fuck old twin soul Harry for never showing up and making him lie to new Harry about who old Harry was. Fuck new Harry for being so nosy giving Louis no choice but to lie to him. Fuck that he couldn’t look at the man while he lied and had to focus on his desk organizer to hide his lying eyes. He wished that false piece of information never left his mouth. He also feared what New Harry with his unabashed youth might scornfully think of him, a middle-aged man who pushes himself back inside a closet. He didn’t mean to tell him all his business like that- just...Damn _old Harry’s_ fault again.

As he rounded the corner he heard murmuring coming from the kitchen. Peering in he saw Harry in an apron taking out a large slab of cheese from the pantry while talking to someone on his earphones.

“Ha ha! I don’t think I’ll be taking a swim but yes it is beautiful here. I’ll send you pictures.”

“Harry?” called Louis, above tone, causing the man to jump and clutch his chest.

“Um, I’ll call you back, Z.”

“What are you doing?” Louis asked accusingly.

“Uh? Making pizza. Isn’t that what happens in Italy?”

“There is a staff for that,” Louis said dryly.

“I know. I was just making something nice for Nailee.”

“I know I just don’t want you to exert yourself and not be able to do the work you came here to do in the first place.”

“Oh,” Harry said teasingly nodding his head in the go-along. “I see.”

Louis shrugged. “Just don’t get any ideas that the house is a joyride. Every single item is for a specific use. For instance, that is a cheese board not a vegetable board.” He pointed to the wide board Harry was cutting the onions and mushrooms on.

“So what you’re saying is I’m not allowed in your kitchen?” Harry said, preferring to ignore the embarrassing revelation. He propped his hands on the counter in a defensive stance, glaring at the agelastic man.

Louis searched the air around Harry’s head. “More or less.”

“Harry, are you done with the pizza yet?” Nailee crept into the kitchen just as Harry gave a huff. When she saw her granddad she rushed over and clung to him.

“Pizza, aye?” Louis stooped down to her. “So you put him up to this,” he bopped her nose. She sucked in her lips.

Harry watched as they hugged. 

“Okay but one slice,” Louis warned with a grin. “We don’t want to ruin whatever diet your mum has you on.”

“Granddad, you just want more for yourself!” Nailee bopped back his nose and he laughed. He looked up at Harry who was now smiling.

“There’s gonna be plenty for everyone,” Harry rested his hands on her shoulders to steer her to the counter and she climbed on a stool.

“She’s a wonderful little girl,” Harry smiled at her as she took the rolling pin and got to work.

“She is.” The air between them seemed to cool down and Louis found himself feeling bare and guilty for going off before. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t want you to feel comfortable around the house, it’s just that...”

“-You don’t want me getting caught up in it,” Harry finished for him with a smirk.

“Right.” Louis said, not fully agreeing with himself.

“Look, Mr Tomlins,”-

“Please, Louis.”

Harry blinked and considered it. “Louis,” he finally accepted, “I was invited here to help make this new venture a success. To that end I made a schedule for myself that has me up until two in the morning from now until we go back to England to make sure I give this job everything I got. One day I want to tell my kids about the time I went to Italy and helped shape one of the world’s biggest magazine offshoots. This means everything to me. I’m not gonna ruin Dianna’s campaign just because I’m simply _making a pizza_.”

“Ughmm....” Nailee cleared her throat. “When you two are done arguing about business, I’m hungry.” She twisted her face at the raw pizza dough.

“Oh no, we’re not arguing, sweetie,” Louis started to explain. Harry walked around him and began spreading the pizza sauce, asking the little girl what toppings she wanted on it.

Feeling rather stupid, Louis left them to it and grumpily went back to his study.

*

"About Marcus Finch-" Dan said, his mouth moving a trifle later than the words as he spoke to the team from England via _Skype_. They were all having breakfast the next day out on the higher level patio overlooking the driveway and parts of the backyard, with their binders and electronic devices at work on their laps and on the foodless spaces of the little table. Louis caught Dianna yawning and Harry giving a subtle scowl at the man's rough voice as he buttered his scone. Louis was relieved Dianna's laptop screen was only facing him at the moment so Dan didn't see how uninterested everyone was during the call.

He looked Dan in the eyes urging him on.

"I've been keeping up,” Dan said. From the background it looked like he was leaning over the desk in Dianna's office. "Looks like the Italian hounds have caught wind of your presence in Rome. And according to my sources they remember the Finch incident quite clearly."

Louis fixed the puckered front of his dark grey subtle houndsworth suit and frowned before taking a bite of his own buttered scone.

Dianna piqued her head up from her papers and tea. "Isn't he the photographer who got caught with pics of under-aged teens among the work he did for us?"

"We may very well need to address this issue," Dan replied, pulling out an important-looking envelope from his dusty-looking jacket. "The press are looking to come at us again for this."

"He was a freelance photographer,” Louis said over volume. “How were we supposed to know what was in his camera roll?"

Dan held up the paper. "I'm faxing this to you. It's the statement you are to give to the press should there be any problem during your visit there."

Dan nodded to someone off screen and Louis saw Alice's petite hand take the paper and heard her heels hurrying away. 

"Dianna go get that will you?" Louis said as Dan gave his see-you-soons and cut off the call.

The corners of her mouth drooped, Dianna looked around the table for other volunteers and when she got none she got up and flitted to the office.

Other trivial chit chat took over the table for a few minutes until she came back with stapled papers. As soon as he saw her approaching Louis clamped on his spectacles.

" _Our magazine does not in any way endorse underage sexual relations, the disregard for legal age of consent, or any other form of acts not in accordance with a healthy productive moral society, and the law_ ," he read after taking it and thanking her. He fazed out his voice to read the close in his mind and when he was done he dragged off the spectacles and put the paper down on top of the closed laptop. In all his years of facing all kinds of obstacles and trials in his profession, this Finch scandal was proving to be the hardest to shake. He often wondered what professional advice his father would give him if he were here.

His gaze drifted over to Harry and was surprised to see the shocked, confused and boldly curious look on his face as he glared back at him. He looked away, choosing to focus on one thing at a time.

"It's only rearing its head because of the Italian buzz the magazine is stirring up. They can't let us enjoy this new chapter," Crystal piped up.

Louis sighed. "On to other business, please." He felt like he was being scorched by Harry’s eyes and wanted to get off the _time bomb_ topic.

"Like I was saying back at headquarters,” Dianna said, embracing the opportunity to change the topic. “We need a _face_ for this project." 

A gust of wind came through the patio and picked up the papers along with some napkins. Nailee jumped up and chased the napkins but the papers floated in Harry’s vicinity, and he caught them from falling to the floor. 

"Someone who's not just a paid model,” Dianna went on after making a high pitched noise about her hair. “Someone who the magazine means something to, who cares enough and is willing to be a spokesperson, help us maintain integrity amid these ridiculous tabloids."

Brows furrowed, Harry scanned the faxed document while she spoke. Taking heart-wrenching notice, Louis tried to look away from the impending glare of another screw up reveal- The ultimate screw up reveal. But too late; Louis caught eyes again with Harry as the young man looked up from the statement. Louis saw the confusion and questions pacing around his forehead. He tried to give a look of nonchalance to silently appease him, but he heard his name being called urgently and his focus jumped back into the conversation.

"Why don't you do it, Uncle Louis?" Crystal had offered. "You'd be the perfect ambassador."

Nick spurted his tea into his cup. "He's fifty-five!"

"Fifty-four, but thank you for sharing that, Nick," Louis said sarcastically, head cocked, distractedly checking a stack of papers in his hand.

Crystal shot Nick a berating look.

Harry smiled at Louis. "I think you'd be a wonderful addition to the campaign,” he said, tucking the statement under a pile of paperwork for safe keeping, his attention finally back on the topic at hand. “Not only do you spearhead a winning magazine but you have the perfect features for the people's issue cover."

Louis’ eyes fluttered up and the two men stared at each other again. Harry's large eyes seemed to close up the mileage between them and the air seemed warmer than usual.

"Thank you, Harry, but it's not the direction I want to take the magazine,” he said looking around at the others, now avoiding his eyes. “It's all about the future, not the past. Youth is an asset.”

"Well, I agree with Harry. You'd be a great asset," said Crystal, shrugging as she looked over the papers Harry tucked.

Nick looked at Harry and gave him a wink, causing the young man to turn sporadically red in the face and pretend to be concerned with writing on his notepad. Eyeing the exchange, Louis wanted to flip the table.

"Well, if we're talking about youth then I think Harry will be a perfect model!" Dianna said, as though just now taking a good look at Harry.

Louis' eyes shot forward. "No! He just started here a few weeks ago! I judge you already booked models for your shoot, Dianna. Choose one of _them_. Harry's an editor. Don't confuse the two," he said, not looking at Harry from his spectacles. He then whipped them off, remembering he had them on in the young man’s presence. He sighed realizing he was five minutes too late and Harry had already had a good look.

Dianna tried again. "Okay, then Freddie,"

" _Freddie?_ Double no. He is in college!" Louis remarked.” This trip is already getting in the way of his studies. Where is he anyway?”

"Went to meet up with his crew," Nailee provided.

Dianna made a move to resume speaking but Louis timely scoffed. "We've been here for two days. How does he have a _crew?"_ he said, knowingly ignoring his step daughter. _Bless her soul, it's for her own good,_ he told himself.

Dianna seemed to have given up her previous prodding and the whole room went quiet for a few seconds before Nick spoke up.

"Harry does look _rustic Italian_ enough to pull it off," the lanky man added in acutely, eyes soaking up the young man who went a trifle redder.

"Harry is already doing something he's qualified and trained to do!" Louis affirmed heatedly, glaring at Nick for getting such a reaction out of Harry. "Asking him to model is an insult! Why don't you do it, Nick!?" he flayed his hands.

Nick gave a whiffy laugh, holding a hand to his chest. "Why, I'm flattered but I don’t think you can afford to pay me to model in briefs after twelve years of working in the Sales department."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Great, so it's settled. No spokesperson and no expansion. I told you, Di, we are fine as a London based cultural magazine," he concluded, grabbing up his papers and his spectacles, getting up and walking out busily before anyone had the chance to object.

*

"Is he always like that?" Harry asked Dianna and Crystal. The three were left behind on the patio, using the table as a workspace for the moment while Marietta cleared it up. A little over a month and Harry still was not accustomed to this family business dynamic. It seemed they all found it hard to talk about anything but business, for a family. Always bickering about which road the company should take. As he opened up his laptop windows, Harry wondered why he was never even asked if he wanted to be the face of _IColorture_ magazine. Why they all just bounced the idea around without his opinion.

"You'll get used to it," Crystal assured, sipping the last of her tea.

“If Freddie doesn’t mind, I’d very much like to try to be the face if it helps,” Harry offered timidly, spearing an eye on Crystal, who nodded in acknowledgement. Sometime after their formal introduction when he had seen her in the halls of _IColorture,_ he suggested honey and lime for her flu as an apology for the elevator mishap, and she took it as a sufficient olive branch. Since then he had taken a liking to Crystal, and though commanding at times, thought her to be the calmest one in the bunch, and her thinking he would be a good help to the new business venture was a plus for him. 

Yet he had enough intuition to observe that what Dianna wants, Dianna gets, and if she wanted her brother’s freckled face as the campaign spokesperson then Harry had to acknowledge that. But even though Dianna mentioned him she didn’t seem to be too interested in Freddie being the face, and if this was going to be anything like the last meeting, Harry knew he would get more _yeses_ than the peroxide blond. He had that in the bag, but something else about what went on at breakfast was digging at the back of his brain.

“So, tell me about this Finch thing.”

He had awoken that morning to a jar of flowers at his bedside and when he asked Marietta she had given him a small smile and said Louis requested it. It had Harry happy and curious all morning up until this Articus Finch conversation began. He had wanted to question Louis about the flowers but for now his concern was about this Finch scandal.

Swallowing hard, Crystal answered. “Articus Finch. He’s from Scorton village. Uncle Louis wanted to do an article about the old English archery village, and Finch answered the call to take some pictures for the article. We had no idea Finch was a pedophile. Apparently one of his neighbors caught him looking in someone’s window, taking pictures, and when the police dropped down on him they seized his camera. This happened three years ago, July. Nearly put the company on the back foot.”

“I remember there was a whole court thing,” Dianna added. “You guys attended while I stood in at the company. It was the first time Daddy put me in charge of something.”

Dianna spoke but Harry was not listening. He was nearly petrified, Crystal’s last sentences still playing in his mind. Three years ago? July? But that would mean.... _oh my god._ Harry rushed up from his seat and mumbled about stretching his legs.

*

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think about this chapter. Press the kudos icon if you liked it.


	7. Chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets to the bottom of things, Louis makes a proposal and a friendship is established.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Accident and grief triggers, book quotes.

**~** **_'Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I've built my life around you. But time makes you bolder even children get older and I'm getting older too'~ Fleetwood Mac._ **

**Harry pov -**

Harry marched inside headed straight for Louis' study. But as he stepped into the living room he had to hold up. Relaxed on the couch with an arm around Nailee, the older man was reading her an old book that looked like it came from his study bookshelf. Adjusting his steps to slower movements, Harry listened;

“' _I dare say it is rather hard to be a rat,” she mused. “Nobody likes you. People jump and run away and scream out: ‘Oh, a horrid rat!’ I shouldn’t like people to scream and jump and say: ‘Oh, a horrid Sara!’ the moment they saw me, and set traps for me, and pretend they were dinner. It’s so different to be a sparrow. But nobody asked this rat if he wanted to be a rat when he was made. Nobody said: ‘Wouldn’t you rather be a sparrow?’_ ”

Nailee’ eyes went wide at that part, at the deep thoughtful tone in which Louis read it. Harry smiled, stopping behind the single chair opposite. He did not know what book it was but he loved to see the little girl warm in her granddad's embrace.

Nailee spotted him first and she let out a squeal. The noise alerted Bruce, who ran up to Harry to make sure he came in peace.

“Harry! Will you play with me!” Nailee shouted. “We can play baseball in the carpark!”

Louis closed the book and off went his spectacles again. “Not today, Nailee. Harry has a lot of work he has to do.”

“Awwwww,” she whined, taking the book. “You better finish reading this to me later, then.” She jumped up and stomped off down the hall with Bruce running behind.

Grinning, Harry tucked away some hair behind his ear. Louis cleared his throat and got up. He had taken off his suit jacket and his protruding muscles were making Harry gulp.

“What book is that?”

“A Little Princess. It’s about a little girl who gets sent off to boarding school.”

Harry reacted with an expressive acknowledgement.

“She has to go soon," Louis breathed tiredly. “I want to get her mentally prepared. Might miss out the first few days according to how long Dianna takes here, but I’ll look at it as a plus cause more time.”

Harry gave an intent nod, taking note of Louis' dedication to the child’s mental wellbeing.

The older man took up his papers once again and handed Harry one, shaking his head. “Do me a favor, will you, I forgot to give this to Dianna.” 

Harry took them with a nod. He had also taken notice of the man’s coldness since their last one-on-one.

Louis then walked around Harry to leave the living room. Harry turned and crept behind him, remembering why he was there. Louis passed the kitchen and marched across a section of the house Harry had not been to before, Harry struggling to hurriedly place his papers in his side bag without creasing them. Louis was fast, and Harry did not want to just blurt it out loud in the halls, so he followed him silently. 

"Mr Tom- Louis, wait!" Harry said as softly as he could not to attract other ears..

Louis only turned back half axis for a second in acknowledgement before continuing to a little semi transept Harry could see was set up as the laundry area. 

Louis then began to roll up his shirt sleeves and open up the washing machine lid. 

Harry abruptly stopped, eyes going wide as he watched the man sort out his whites. 

"Well this is a spectacle," Harry managed to say with a giggle.

Louis looked at him. "What? Is it that much of a surprise I do my own laundry?"

Raising his eyebrows, Harry quickly shook his head, stuffing back a laugh. Honestly he would have thought a man like Louis would be hopelessly dependent on Marietta for that sort of thing.

“So, I woke up to a pleasant surprise this morning," he said, another behavioral surprise coming to mind as he watched Louis toss the clothes in. "Fresh flowers at my bedside. Marietta said they were compliments of you?”

“An apology,” Louis replied, rather trite as he poured in the detergent, “for the pizza thing. It was delicious, I had a slice.”

He shut the lid and turned the timer control, and with a little smile that asked for Harry to allow him to pass, he waited for him to jump aside and then marched off again. He took wide strides all the way to his study, Harry still on his tail.

The man waited for Harry to enter then shut the door, walking to his desk. He then grew overall consumed in organizing and reorganizing his desk, stacking papers and reading headers- rather fakely, Harry thought. He must be still embarrassed about what was said during yesterday’s intense conversation here. Harry figured it best to approach the intended topic another time, leave him to his work... 

But he had to ask.

"You didn't tell me _IColorture_ was under heat with one of our photographers?" Three years… that would bring the start of it around the time they met at the hotel Lamure. Harry wondered if it had something to do with why Louis didn't meet him after. Heck it had to be the reason.

"Yes. Didn’t you research the companies you were preparing résumés for?" Louis said, the try for nonchalance turning slightly judgmental.

Triggered by the tone in which he used that word _research_ again, Harry decided to let it go. He shifted to leave, but Louis spoke again. 

"Finch got arrested the week before I met you. But he was a freelancer, so we didn’t think we’d be affected. That is, until he told the police he took the pictures on our company’s request, to cover his ass. The press began to question our morals from a side. All of this started happening on the weekend I was away with you, with my phone turned off. I had gotten back to a sea of tabloids questioning my integrity and that of my colleagues and anyone who associated with _IColorture._ Dan got Finch’s statement discredited in court, but in the aftermath I had to double check every worker that ever passed through our doors, re-establish alliances.”

“And leave some stranded,” Harry added in a bristled tone.

Louis’ head lowered in a manner that told he was expecting this reaction, and he seemed to gather his wit before looking up again. “The scandal almost compromised the company's credibility,” his voice came out lower, weaker. “It would have looked bad to abandon it and indulge in a rendezvous with a man half my age. Think what it would have done to my company. …My family." Louis’ eyes went thoughtful, sloe-dark as he said it, and even though the room was dim, Harry suspected that was not why.

_So I was right. The reason he didn't come was because his company was in jeopardy and he was compelled to do the right thing._

"I think that was very _wise_ of you,” Harry said, not really meaning it. “But with whom you sleep isn’t the business of the press or anyone, including your family. You just said Finch was proved a liar. You’re not the one who did that heinous crime."

"That photographer took pictures of half-naked underage girls and kept them among the pictures of natural landscape of the Scorton village green we hired him to take for a feature article. That automatically made it look like his pictures were ours. The press only needed that to build all kinds of stories about me and my company. Now think what it would have looked like for me to get _papped_ with you at the same time."

"I was twenty-three. A full grown adult. We were two full grown adults enjoying each other's company," Harry thundered, "but okay, forget the roaring chemistry and magnetic sexual energy we had and be a coward."

Louis remained calm. "I stand by my decision to protect my family. If you don't like it, there is the door."

Harry was ready to blow someone's house down. Louis refused to hear a word he was saying. But he had a point. To the point where Harry was ferociously turned on by his lined forehead and overworked eyes and half unbuttoned shirt with sleeves ruggedly rolled up to his strong, hairy forearms. Yeah, Harry wanted to shove the desk sideways and push that chair straight back into the wall and have his way with him. 

All kinds of quips crowded on his tongue before a wry observation triumphed.

“What about Eleanor? She was much too young for you.”

“That was a completely different situation and the laws were different back then."

“The moral is the same.” Harry darted an eye on the shelf to abate his anger. There were _enough_ books on there about losing out on happiness because of duty and obligation. He almost despised it.

“-And even more perspicuous now that I’m older,” Louis spat back, “to be gallivanting with someone much younger than her.”

Harry threw him a brooding look that showed exactly how he felt about the man’s ignorance on the subject. He knew he would not win the argument on the outside but he already won technically in the silence of their exchange of stares. And from the look Louis was now giving him he knew it too. Harry looked away, annoyed at his stubbornness.

"For the record I completely agree with what you said," Harry looked at him one more time. "I don't think I will make a good spokesperson."

"That's not- I didn't mean that you won't be good," Louis tossed an eye on him, busy with papers on his desk. "I just meant that- Look, Dianna has this way she always thinks outside the box," he gestured in the air, "That's not so bad but I like traditional things. Should stick to what we know. No use chasing the unknown especially where business is concerned.” He mumbled in the end: “We’re not a bloody fashion magazine."

Harry understood but still added, "Forgive me but business in itself is a risk. But fine, if you don't want me to, I won't do it." He didn't quite know what it was but he had a strange compulsion to obey the man for reasons that had little to do with keeping his job.

Louis threw his gaze off him in contemplation and went back to his desk work.

"If there's nothing else, you should get back to work, Harry.”

Reluctantly, Harry sighed and walked out with one last molten glance at the man.

*

**Louis POV**

Crystal shut the door of her uncle’s study and folded her arms. Her purple suit and fancy yellow scarf did not soften the smirk on her face.

Louis gave her an eyebrow. “Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” It had barely been ten minutes since Harry stormed out of the room streaming and here Louis was being yet again on the receiving end of some kind of scrutiny.

“I’ve known you since I was a baby.”

“I know; I was there when you were born. I delivered you,” Louis corrected, not looking away from his desk top.

“Yes, you did. And in all the years that you have _overly_ protected me and I watched you protect Dianna and Freddie, I’ve never seen you do it for a practical stranger before.”

He finally looked up. “What are you talking about?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Harry? You went off in there like a mad bull when Dianna suggested he model for the mag. I know you are not fond of this new business idea but the look in your eyes when you spoke for him was pretty endearing.”

 _Endear-_ "And your point is?" Louis asked, trying to sound casual/ not too offended.

"Nothing. I just find it interesting he shows up here sharing the same name with a certain... someone. I just don’t know if that coincidence is judging your actions where a simple employee is concerned. Harry has expressed interest in being the face of the new magazine. He just told Dianna that a while ago.”

"So you don't think it’s because of his sheer excellence in doing his _actual_ job- the one he applied for- that judges my actions?"

If Crystal’s brow couldn’t get any higher. "You gave an entry-level employee a say in an important game-changing meeting. Do I have to say anymore, uncle Louis?"

"I simply needed a card to pull on Di. No employee of mine has received or will ever receive special treatment from me. This is a business, not a joke." Harry had a legit job now and there was no point in bringing up their brief past together.

He ruffled his papers and buried his head in them once more.

"Alright then." With a sigh, Crystal turned to leave.

“And one more thing,” Louis stopped her. “ _Harry_ wasn’t a 'certain someone.' He didn’t exist. He _still_ doesn’t exist, period. I don’t live in that fantasy world anymore.”

 _"_ Well _, If he is the one to break the spell..,"_ Crystal chided under her breath and left him to his work.

*

There was a brief meeting the next morning in which Dianna got on Louis’ nerves with all her new plans and ideas, throwing a pitch to have the magazine photoshoot on the streets of Rome or at a famous building like _Castel Sant’ Angelo._ An idea which Louis quickly shut down in favor of using the gardens at the house instead.

“I don’t want to disrupt the daily tourism by acting like I own the place,” Louis had said in support of his motion. “We’re here to have a feel of things, not to go full throttle and dive headfirst into bankruptcy.”

Louis spent the next few hours working in his study, yesterday's conversation with Crystal replaying in his mind. She hadn’t exactly grilled him on his behavior towards Harry but she did mention her observation of it. Even said she found it what- _endearing_ the way he valued the young man's insight at the last meeting.

His work eventually descended into doodling on parchment with his quill like an old bard- his idea of taking a break so no one would think he takes breaks- Louis' eyes stared at the page to the point of being blurred with thought. As a young lad, Louis' view on love was that he never had to pay for it. The only payment his partner would want was his unceasing devotion. After the divorce he had sworn to make up for all the lost time, all the trysts he could have had in alleyways, all the grinding in parties he passed up. He had swallowed his pride and decided to actually pay whatever amount for a weekend with an escort and ended up meeting the young man that would make him reexamine everything he ever believed in… - Nope, Crystal did not need to know about that.

A light knock on his door brought him out of it. He grumbled at them to come in and Harry's head appeared. _Great._

“You have to take your granddaughter for a walk,” he said, sliding in and closing the door behind him.

"Did Nailee say she wanted to go for a walk?" Louis had way too much work to do to leave in favor of a stroll so late in the afternoon. Only two o'clock but forget it.

"Yes, but she wants you to take her. I was thinking the Trevi fountain isn’t far from here..."

"I don't have time to idle around a fountain right now. We have that whole castle-touring tomorrow. She'll get out then." He said it with contempt at the 'castle.' Harry had sent him a draft of a couple places he thought about going for their sightseeing.

"But you said,"

Dipping his pen again, Louis looked up at Harry with a curt, arched eyebrow that read _'go on.'_

"You did say we ought to see the outdoors. I’d be delighted to go sightseeing and see the Trevi fountain and..." Harry's eyes were distractedly pacing the desk, smiling nervously and flapping his hands, making the gestures to go along with his words. Louis observed the tall man and the way his hands moved like music as he spoke.

Louis started mimicking Harry's vision, darting his eyes over the items on his desk. From the man’s fading tone and the way his eyes went dizzy, Louis knew the exact place Harry’s words had drifted off to. He could _taste_ it. The man was already in a brown Barbour jacket ready to go, so any excuse Louis made would be met with dismay.

"Is that parchment? I mean real parchment?" Harry suddenly leaned over and snatched it up.

Louis nodded with a long frown at the invasion of space. Harry ran his palm over the rough surface, his mouth so wide open Louis could see his molars.

"Oh- what-"

"It's just some poetry," Louis grabbed back the parchment. He dumped it in his desk drawer and shoved it close.

He had no sooner done that than Harry picked up a second sheet that was on the desk. Louis gasped and was about to grab it but Harry had already shifted away with a mischievous grin, reading it.

 _"'Time is jealous of you and wars against your lilies and your roses..,'"_ he read, face blocked by the parchment. _"'You will become sallow, and hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed. You will suffer horribly…. Ah! realize your youth while you have it. Don’t squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure...Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing…'"_

Louis rapped his fingers on the desk impatiently, thoroughly annoyed.

Harry didn't seem to notice, or care. "Wait, don't tell me- Shakespeare- No!- Oscar Wilde!"

Louis raised an eyebrow high. "And you're not gonna stand there and tell me you didn't come up with it by not looking on my desk?" 

Harry squinted his eyes in minor confusion. Louis pursed his lips and picked up a book he had in the corner of his work pile, waving it pointedly to show the title. _The Picture Of Dorian Gray_ , uncensored annotated edition. He prayed he did not have to end up giving explanations why he was idly copying quotes instead of working on his magazine.

Harry's whole face went wide in shock and Louis could now see his tonsils. "Don't shit me! He dropped the parchment and snatched the book from Louis' hand. Louis leaned over to make sure he didn't step on it in his haste. 

"Shakespeare is fantastic, this parchment is just perfect for his sonnets,” Harry picked up the parchment and handed it to Louis. “But I love Oscar Wilde." He opened the book and delved in the pages.

"You do?"

"His work is so surreal, it takes you into this quiet, sad world where everything is gravely enchanting."

Louis smiled a little. Harry kept turning pages in awe, Louis growing aroused at every intake of breath.

"I haven't read the uncensored version," Harry mused at the title, and Louis nodded, impressed.

"It's ...interesting," Louis noticed the man's hands moving over the pages like it was a precious china. "For a deeper study of Oscar's mind when writing the original homoerotic text. Keep it."

"Oh no way. I can't."

"It's okay. I'm quite done with it anyway."

Harry looked at the book again, the acceptance creeping up in his features. "Thank you, I'll put it in my portmanteau."

"Your what?"

"My suitcase," grinned Harry. "So are you going to the fountain with us?"

With a trifle of hesitation, "I can use a break from work,” decided Louis, tautly stacking away his parchment and clearing his desk. “And if Di’s going ahead with this campaign we can all use the good luck right now."

\--

**Harry pov**

"Cobblestones in Rome are called "little St Peters,” Louis said as Nailee stuck her face out the window to see what was causing the bumpy ride. Bruce sat halfway on top of her, frightened now after he jumped in the car behind them. Louis had complained and tried to toss him back out but the little girl begged Harry to stop him.

“After all the souls that St Peter saved,” Harry added cheerily, running his fingers through the dog’s fur to calm him as the car slowed down. A big golden-furred jolly dog, Harry loved his playful nature. After Nailee had implored for him to go with, all Harry did was look at Louis and the man rolled his eyes toward the window and went quiet. 

Now he finally looked away from the window, knitting his brows. “Actually they got their name because the first place where they were installed was on St Peter's Square."

“That's not what my Sunday school teacher told me,” Harry remained unmoved.

“ _Hahahaha_ ,” Louis chuckled as the car came to a full stop. “Well, she’s not the little Roman historian, is she?”

A slackly reminiscent grin spread on Harry’s face as they all climbed out of the car.

It only took a ten-minute ride from the house in Esquiline to Quirinale where the Trevi fountain sat. They climbed out with Louis looking up at the darker shades of clouds slowly replacing the white ones, dipping back in for his umbrella despite the chauffeur telling him those were just passing clouds. They walked to the famous fountain and Harry lagged behind a few feet, looking at the two giggling at the statues. 

Louis looked back at him. "Why are you all the way over there?"

Harry stared solemnly at the man as he gestured his head for him to come over. "I'm good here." He did not want to share that he was in minor petrification due to being overwhelmed by the majesty of the sculptures. 

Louis flashed a polite but warm smile as he turned back to the fountain, tossing in a coin.

Nailee squealed and threw one in after him, Bruce barking and skipping at her outburst.

"What did you wish for?" Harry called to her, making an effort to untangle himself from his psychosomatic episode. She ran up to him and he kneeled to her level.

"Pretty hair like you!" she said, and Louis smiled and looked on as the child took a strand in her fingers. 

Harry looked up at Louis and blushed. 

Standing up and dipping in his jacket pocket, Harry checked two coins in his hands and threw them in awareness of the older man’s eyes on him.

“Great, so we can go to the park now,” Nailee declared as the coins sank to the bottom below _Oceanus’_ feet. But neither adult replied right away. The two men were now looking at each other, Louis deep into Harry’s eyes like he was astonished at something that lay behind them. Harry wanted to look away but found himself paralyzed in the blue marbles.

Louis’ eyes began to water and he finally blinked out the burning in them. “We should drink from the potable fountain over there,” he pointed at a smaller water fountain. “It’s tradition.”

A few minutes later they were at the potable taking turns. Nailee went first, then it was Harry's turn. He lowered his head while Louis held the pressure tap open and opened his mouth. He didn't know why his eyes wended its focus to Louis but he ended up eye to eye as he drank, the blue spheres penetrating him as they stared at him. 

The older man dropped his stare to his mouth as it drank and Harry saw his Adam's apple move in tune with his drinking. One could argue the man was expressing his thirst for the water, but be that as it may, wouldn't his eyes then be on the water itself?

Harry banished the thought and rose up. After all it can't be as complicated as that. If it was not Louis certainly wasn't making it easy as he kept on staring a half minute too long after Harry stopped drinking. Harry had to give a somewhat abstracted head gesture to the fountain for Louis to come out of it. Belatedly, Louis caught on and glided his head to the water with a silly look washing his features. When he rose up and Harry gestured for them to get back to the car, it was replaced by a tight, disconcerted nod. 

Then as if eager to end the disturbingly silent walk, the rain began to fall. Louis opened the umbrella and they huddled under it as they moved faster but it seemed the faster they went the harder the rain fell and soon they were jimmied over to a huge tree at the edge of the field of cobblestones overlooking a field of green on the other side of it. They had to stay there. If they moved again the rain and their movements would make sure they were drenched.

Even as they all fought to keep themselves dry, Bruce shaking off the water in vain as he did not have the luxury of the umbrella, Harry noticed Louis looking down in a worried haze at his shoes. Harry angled his head; the expensive shoes were no match for the back splashing beads pelting into his socks and soaking him through and through. 

So Harry couldn't help it if a snort escaped. 

Louis heard it. He shot Harry a fixed slightly startled look.

Harry looked away, pretending he was oblivious. When Louis looked down again, pulling Nailee closer to them, Harry playfully muttered; "Those poor shoes…"

He was not looking with the side of his eyes but he could feel the bright glaze of a smile washing warmth over him. He looked and as he suspected, Louis' pearly whites were glistening in the dim rainy surroundings. 

"Someone brought us out here to catch cold," Louis subtly chided back, sending him a little sidelong look. 

“And I'm a weatherman," said Harry with a few giggles.

"You're lucky I brought backup," Louis briefly cocked his head up to the nylon taffeta ceiling. He looked boyish and playful at that angle.

Louis' chuckle preceded heavier shots of rain hitting the ground like bullets. They all shifted into a huddle in response and the left side of Harry's back was smashed up against the right side of Louis' chest. He brought his hand around to close the space up more and Harry was dangerously aware of his fingers clamped on his bicep. Even in the loud rain he could feel the man’s heart thump faster against his backbone, his cologne mysteriously heightened. 

Soon the rain ceased and pedestrians began moving again, flitting through the mizzling rain every which way to their destinations. Harry and Nailee branched out from under the umbrella and Louis was able to lower it and shake it out. 

Every wet cobblestone seemed to be catching the streetlight, gleaming. The square was like a field of diamonds. Harry kept hold of Nailee’s hand and they carefully paced back to the car.

They soon reached the nearby park. Nailee skipped away with Bruce, Louis trying to keep up with them on the grass, and Harry found a white-washed stone bench overlooking the park and most of the prominent buildings beyond it. 

He covered a spot on the bench with an old newspaper from the car, sat down and canvassed the fresh scenery, amazed by the ancient beauty of it all. It was so much more scenic than Louis mentioned three years ago. Great, his mind was going back there. But why shouldn’t it? One thing was related to the other. It had all started at that hotel, the chocolates, the fun, the kisses, the falling in love. And now here he was in freaking Rome for Pete’s sake, and with the same man. 

Harry scratched the top of his head close to his hairline. _But you aren’t here together, it’s just work. And you putting in those coins for him to see did not help the already awkward tensions one bit_. 

Maybe his conscience was right, maybe he overwhelmed the man. He scolded himself- how could Louis possibly know from two stupid coins that he was interested in him? Of course he knows, you're the one blowing steam about _roaring sexual energy_ and _magnetic chemistry. He didn't even flinch, much less admit you had something, Idiot._

He sighed thinking maybe he should stop deluding himself into thinking Louis even cared for him anymore. The Lamure hotel was a long time ago. Louis had moved on and maybe so should he.

As he breathed in the warm Roman air, his eyes fell on a tree in the distance and spotted a brown coated figure watching them from behind a tree. Whoever it was had on a hat and dark sunglasses, but the shade of the tree distorted the image, and they soon disappeared.

\--

**Louis pov**

He put two coins in. This is the sentence racing through Louis’ mind now as he strolled with Nailee on the field. Harry had put two coins in. One coin was good enough luck for safe travels, but two coins? Two coins meant that one was hoping for romance. Louis was trying not to read too much into it. Maybe that’s just the amount Harry had in his pocket. Maybe he wasn’t thinking something would happen between them. Maybe he was not thinking about Louis at all but hoping to meet someone else. Someone new.

The former meant that Harry wanted something to happen with him, and that was a thought that terrified Louis because, _one_ ; He was really hoping after the whole truth about why he didn’t show up for their date was out, the young man could genuinely put the whole thing behind him and move on. And _two_ ; if he didn’t move on, and was setting his sights on Louis in any real way Louis didn’t know how to evade him this time now that Harry basically knew everything about Louis, unlike at the hotel when they were strangers with no name. Still he didn’t know if simply putting in two coins for romance was worse than just happening to have that amount on him. The former could quite possibly mean Harry wanted romance in general with anyone really, not necessarily Louis. If Harry was hoping to be in love with someone other than him soon, Louis knew he had to let it happen. His mind went back to Nick’s flirting on the patio. He closed his eyes, terrified.

Leaving Nailee to run wild with the dog, Louis walked over to the young man and looked down at him on the bench. He sat on the edge from most of the wet and he wore a look like something was bothering him.

"Is everything okay?" Louis asked, not prepared to sit next to him just yet for reasons that had little to do with the wet bench.

"Yep," Harry rushed up to separate a few pages for Louis to sit on the dry. He lumped back down and wiggled his legs, releasing a weak giggle, “You can’t keep up with Bruce, can you?”

A grin stretched out on Louis' face. “I love the mutt but yeah he’s a little too hyper for me.” Louis looked at Nailee and her dog running around screaming and laughing. He remembered he had barely gotten his foot out of the car after his weekend at the hotel when the strange little thing came running up to him from inside the house, skipping and wagging it’s tail at him as though the animal had been expecting him. Crystal said she saw the labradoodle at the park in a box like someone had abandoned him and compassion led her to take him home for Nailee. At home the dog had been a huge distraction from feeling sad about not being able to see the escort again. Great, even the family dog is a living reminder of the time Louis spent with the young man...

"So, what did you wish for, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry then asked lightly, voice inviting.

Louis took his time and sat, rubbing his moist hand on his lap. "I gave up making wishes a long time ago."

"But Rome is such a beautiful mystical place," Harry quipped. "I'm here only a few days and I can feel the magic. How did you live here for so long?"

 _You,_ something at the back of Louis’ mind promptly replied involuntarily, _I was waiting for you._ But he smiled away at the question.

“Niall and I used to come out here all the time. In the beginning we’d put all our change together and buy something fried from the vendor and sit out here and look at the top of the Basilica, and when things got better we’d buy with our bills and throw the change in the fountain. We’d wish for all sorts of crazy things like long winters to go skiing in our backyard. Idiots, I know. Anyhow, all the coins in there go to charity, so even if our wishes didn’t come true we were happy doing good.” 

Louis let a smile run loose on the corners of his mouth. Niall, and Hailee used to think the whole city was enchanted. That was why he stayed so long. Not because of the city, but because of them. Them... Surprised to find himself missing Hailee too, he blinked himself out of it.

“That's sweet,” Harry murmured against his shoulder. The brief gesture stopped Louis’ breath. “You two must have been happy living together.” His tone was slightly curious, as if questioning the nature of the friendship he had with Niall.

"So, you're excited to visit the Castel Sant’Angelo…" Louis said, changing the subject. He could see Harry visibly trying to remain stoic about him doing that.

Harry's entire body erupted in excitement. "I can't wait to see it! It's the most monumental place for me."

"Yeah, lots of people rather try the Vatican or the Colosseum, but the mausoleum is breathtaking." _Literally_ , Louis' mind couldn't help but add. "Wasn't happy Dianna wanted to shoot there. It’s where Niall..." he did not finish.

Harry gasped. "Oh God, I didn't know."

"But it's not all sad,” Louis said quickly. "On the bright side it's also where we met Crystal's mother, Hailee. She was a tour guide there at the time. And over there,” he stretched his index out to the large zucchetto-shaped outline of the Vatican on the horizon, “is where Niall used to work.” 

“Interesting,” Harry uttered, excited with the wonders of the old Roman buildings. “Should I add St Peter’s Basilica to the itinerary?”

“Knock yourself out,” Louis sighed. Way beyond the park he could see the gangling row of umbrella pines shading half the sinister windows of the Tiberino Island hospital just behind a few other buildings dotting the landscape. Over it, seeming to sit atop the branches like a prehistoric bird, barely noticeable and almost blending in with the sky, was the tiny _John of God_ statue that marked the hospital. The whole thing made his stomach squelch. “Visit anywhere you like while you can. I’m hoping to get this trip over with and get my team back to English headquarters where it belongs.”

~~

_"There is a strong chance he is not going to make it," doctor DeLuca said, finally appearing in the waiting room of Fatebenefratelli Hospital. "Keeping him on life support may only be adding to his suffering. You need to make the decision."_

_“But he was saved in time," Louis said, glancing at Hailee and back at the doctor. He had called Griffin as soon as they wheeled Niall into emergency and the man brought both mother and child to the hospital. "The accident happened not far from here, just on the bridge. The ambulance reached here in no time. How can he be dying?”_

_“He lost too much blood. Pretty soon he might be brain dead.”_

_Crystal clinging to Griffin's leg as they processed the news, Hailee grabbed onto Louis' shirt sleeve. "I can't- I can't- can't- Louis!"_

_Louis reached out and held her close, tears threatening his lashes. "I can't either. I don't know what to do either!"_

_"You should take the time to say goodbye," the doctor said remorsefully._

_Griffin deciding to hang back, Louis and Hailee took little Crystal's hand and the three of them walked into Niall's hospital room. He put the child up on the bed next to her father and took a seat next to Hailee on the bench._

_Niall looked so much like he was sleeping, only with apparatus stuck in his mouth and bandages all over his body. From what the doctors said Louis knew he was in an irreparable state. The two others who had been in the accident- the truck driver and his passenger- had survived with the paramedics help but the police said a fourth man had been found dead in the Tiber river, mauled. That the hair and scalp on his head had been ripped off supposedly by a vacant stationary tourist boat engine when he fell, and that he may have been just an unlucky pedestrian in the wrong place at the wrong time in the accident. That man died on impact, but Louis had been right on time to say goodbye to Niall._

_He was glad he did not take Crystal for that walk she had been begging to go for or she would have seen her father in a pool of blood and Niall would never forgive Louis if he did not immediately take her away from such a sight. Louis got his chance to say goodbye but Crystal and Hailee needed the same chance now. Now that the doctors declared him brain dead and the plug had to be pulled._

_Giving Hailee and little Crystal space to say goodbye he got up and went back to the waiting room where he retrieved from the corner a large plastic bag the police had given him earlier containing a bloody briefcase- Louis' briefcase- and other items belonging to Niall from the scene of the crime. He wasn't ready to face it before but figured he needed a good excuse to leave Niall's room because he couldn't face that either._

_As he dug inside, something he spotted made him gasp. Three tickets to England by boat. Three. Louis started choking out large sobs. Niall had taken it upon himself to get them, having had no idea Louis already bought tickets. Niall had bought one for him, one for Louis, and one for Crystal. He had accepted Louis’ offer and was going to England with him to start a new life._

_He looked at the family picture he kept in there. It was all smeared with bloody fingerprints now, and the sobbing soon turned into downright blubbering with Louis heartbroken about what he had just lost. The family he was about to have. The life he was about to finally have._

_Laying on the bloody cobbled bridge, Niall had begged him to take Crystal. Niall knew that Haylee couldn't take good care of the child on her own. He had passed out in Louis' arms begging him to take care of his daughter, Louis' daughter now. Louis knew now he had to protect her from all that threatened to harm her wellbeing. Even from her own mother._

~~

Louis took out his pack of nuts and pulled the wrapper seal open. “I’m sorry. It’s just. Being back here. It’s a bit of an adjustment.” He offered Harry some and he declined.

“Is that why you left so quickly the last time you were here?” Harry asked intuitively as Louis tossed a few in his mouth. “Because this place brings back too many memories about Niall?”

“You can say so.” Louis remembered an occasion where he had taken the children sightseeing and the moment he spotted the hospital it was just too much. That was the last time he visited Rome until now.

"What about Crystal's mum?” Harry asked, his eyes on Louis like a warm light and his voice soothing. “Where is she now?”

An eyebrow shot up in reluctance to answer but Louis didn't want to be rude or lie to the man again. "She's not around anymore. Having her around wasn't good for anyone."

~~

_Hailee walked into the waiting room, fine grains of hair standing disheveled on her head._

_"So, I think I'll go to that guy's wake," she whispered weakly. Louis could hear the wavering effort to be strong. "A couple of my brother's friends know him."_

_Louis quickly stifled his cries and wiped his eyes, nodding. "Where's Crystal?"_

_Hailee replied, "She's with Griffin in. He took her for ice cream to get her mind off it."_

_She took the picture, tiny sparkles growing larger in her eyes. She fought to stay steady, sniffling and raking her hair back. "Is that the briefcase?"_

_"It's mine, yeah. He uh…He bought these," he held up the tickets. The blood-stained picture still shaking in Hailee's hands._

_"He was leaving with me."_

_At Louis' words, Hailee's expression exuberated confusion._

_Louis sought to explain. "I asked him to go with me. That's why I was there at the house. He said he'd think about it, but," his weak gaze fell on the tickets once more as confirmation._

_Hailee sneered at them. "Are you sure you didn't buy them? I mean, they're in your briefcase.”_

_"I didn't!"_

_"Liar!" Hailee shouted, shoving him._

_"Why would I lie?" Louis grabbed her arms and pushed back. "Hailee! Why would I lie!?" he shoved his hand in his pocket. "They're in my wallet!"_

_He pulled out the three tickets neatly tucked in his billfold. "He told me to take her! Look at my suit! It was covered in his blood! He was in my arms and he told me to take her back with me!"_

_Hailee started blubbering now, the look on her face was pure hurt at what Louis was insinuating._

_"I'm not gonna just take her from you. You're her mother. I want you to have every opportunity to raise her. But I'm telling you, Hay, if you so as take one drink or slip up on your rehab I promise you I will make sure she has a good life away from your mess."_

_Unable to answer through her choked crying, Hailee violently threw the picture at Louis and ran back in the direction of Niall's room. Scared she'd do something crazy, Louis dashed after her. He saw her climb on and clutch Niall on the bed. Louis let her cry on the man's chest. A slight stretch in the truth, it was not exactly what Niall had said. But Louis knew it's what he would have wanted. But Louis knew it was only fair to give Hailee the benefit of a doubt. So he was doing that. He only hoped Hailee would listen and take heed because she knew Louis had less patience with her than Niall._

**~~**

Nailee's laughter, as she ran around, brought Louis back to the present and he rubbed his eyes trying to put the thoughts out. He refocused on the two and spotted Nailee throwing cookie bits at the pigeons around the park, and that's when he heard it.

Sitting next to him on the other end of the park bench, with his left leg hanging gracefully over his right, was Harry humming a tune Louis could never mistake.

_That melody?_

His mouth opened.

_Is that- Is he singing my song!?_

That was the song he sang for old Harry a long time ago. Why is _this_ Harry singing it?

"You can sing," remarked Louis.

"Well, I mean- I'd like to think so," the man replied.

"That song..."

"Oh! It's from _Les Miserables_ , one of my favorite musicals. It's called _On My Own."_

Louis just sat like a statue not knowing how to process this revelation.

Harry snorted at his disposition. "To tell you the truth I saw this bench and it immediately took me back to that Friday afternoon when I waited for you. The song just popped in my head as I sat down remembering that." Harry smiled softly, his whole demeanor that of an abandoned puppy, and Louis suddenly felt like a water fountain with stacks of pennies and gallons of water, his stomach heavy now.

Harry hummed the song because Louis had abandoned him... just like Louis had sung it all those years ago feeling abandoned by...Harry. This was all too much to take in.

“I truly am sorry about what happened three years ago.”

“No, don’t,” Harry started to say and Louis thought he was dismissing it in a _let bygones be bygones_ way but something broken on the edge of his tone said something different. Harry then turned to Louis and he saw just what was inside. His eyes were burning red and his forehead no longer smooth. He wasn’t crying but looked very close to it.

“I know we already cleared up the reason you didn’t meet me, and I know you said it wouldn’t have made a difference had I told you my name, but I can’t stay another day on this trip without telling you how you not showing up affected me before.”

Louis was so stunned all he could do was glance at Nailee while she hit the swing set and give Harry a faint nod.

“You were the perfect man. I don’t know, but I built this image in my head that you were. And I was scared when you asked me my age. I thought, hey, I met the most amazing guy and he’s already apprehensive because of our obvious age gap but if I tell him now he’s gonna run for sure. I was happy the moment you agreed to try. 

"Anyway my point is- it didn’t matter to me who you were or how much money you had. I’d have crawled into a cardboard box with you if you’d told me that’s where you lived. Now whatever brought us in each other’s lives again, we have to see each other and work together almost every day. And trust me, since our time at the hotel I’ve come to see you and me in a very different light, but...working for you these past weeks, spending time with you and your family, is building it all back up again, that image I first had. You're a respectable man and I just wanted you to know that.”

Louis could do nothing but stare blankly. He came out of it only by the sound of Nailee’s laughter.

He popped some nuts in his mouth and glanced back as Harry, who eyed him. 

“I’m just being honest with you, Louis. I know it’s not the same as it was back then and it can’t _be_ anything.”

“No no, I know. It’s just- A cardboard box, seriously? You were that hung?” Louis let the snicker escape.

Harry looked at him with a hanging jaw. He shoved Louis playfully. “You moron.”

Louis doubled over laughing harder. “So, now that I've redeemed myself in your eyes, can we be friends?” he asked when the laughter died down.

Harry took in a breath and looked all over his face for a little bit. “Okay. Friends.” He stuck out his pinky. 

Louis wanted to curse, or cry. The memory of the last time Harry did it and the promise they made to each other coursing through him like sweet venom. He stuck his pinky out latching it to the younger man’s making the promise of {sighs} friends.

“Before we let go,” Harry rang out, hooking tighter to Louis’ finger. “Friends talk to each other. If you ever want to talk- about anything; Niall, anything...I’m here, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis nearly croaked, throat dry from the nuts. “Time to get back," he said pertly, flying up. "I need to get some more work done before dinner."

“Hmm,” Harry said. “Just for the record, I’m wearing slacks tonight.”

Louis chuckled.

*****

That night in the house, Marietta made them a pot of hot chocolate- Italian style- and they enjoyed it in the living room under relaxing chandelier light.

Louis watched on as Harry and Nailee sat at the piano. He didn't think anyone would bother with it. He had hoped.

Harry held her fingers and taught her a few notes, and she was able to play the ABC, but that was it. Louis frowned, wondering why he never sent her for lessons before.

“Your turn to play something,” she laughed. And Harry started something up. The delicate light over his features made him look resplendent, angelic. His short hair was so lofty, beckoning for Louis to rake his hands through. Harry. He still struggled with it.

Louis knew the tune. It was a bubbly rendition of an old Billy Joel song; _For the Longest Time._ Louis had heard it lots of times as a child. His parents’ song was on the same album and they’d play the whole thing and dance and all would seem right in the world. Louis would pretend he wasn't watching then squint his eyes scornfully but not so deep, trying to hold back a tumble-full giggles.

_"Once I thought my innocence was gone,'_

_Now that I know happiness goes on,_

Harry's shoulders moved up and down in tune with the beat of the music, and Louis was entranced.

_“'That's when you found me,'_

_'When you put your arms around me,'_

_'I haven't been there for the longest time,'”_

As the song died down, a grim nausea rose in Louis' torso and his face darkened. It was creeping up on him. Everything about what Harry was doing- dancing around, singing- reminded him of what he had wanted for his younger self.

Harry seemed so happy and at home at the piano in Rome, in Louis’ house, livening up the atmosphere and making his family laugh. Louis had the urge to go sit with him and sing along to something and let their arms brush while he played. 

But it was wrong. The timing was all wrong. Dianna was only a few months older than Harry...

Feeling the grey hair like gunmetal on his head, he bounded up to go to his bed quarters.

"Granddad, come play one more with us," Nailee caught him as he took to the doorway.

Louis broke a smile for her. “I’m rather tired, Nay. You guys go ahead. I’m off to bed."

With a quick look at Harry, seeing his wide hopeful eyes go dim, he turned down the open hallway forgetting to say goodnight, these torturous thoughts on his mind- _He sings…, he plays the piano…_

\--

“He’s been so uptight since we got here," Crystal observed her uncle's departure. "It’s like he can’t wait to get back on a plane home."

Sipping her hot chocolate, Dianna shook her head dolefully. “I just wish he’d see that this is what the company needs right now to move on from Finch.”

Harry, who had been listening in, paused on the key and said; “Maybe he’s just a little overwhelmed being back here. Rome has so many memories for him. Niall is practically around every corner of the city. You have to bear with him.” 

Dianna shrugged mindlessly with a yawn. Crystal on the other hand looked in deep confusion. 

“Wait- he told you about Papa? He never talks about Papa. Remember when he said he got that bike for his birthday? It was Papa who got him that. He couldn't even say the name. I only found out all this from Grand mama. She's the only one he opens up to."

“No, he hasn't told me anything,” Harry quickly retracted. It was not that Louis told him so much about Niall, he only knew what he said in the birthday party and by earlier that day, but he didn’t want anyone to know he had such deep conversations with the man. "Just bits of what everyone’s been saying. Remember they lived here for quite some time. They were best friends. It's sadly nostalgic for him.”

“And me,” Crystal put in, taking another sip. "This is where I used to live with him and Papa. When _IColorture_ took off Uncle Louis started expanding the little house. But like I said before, he only brought us back here once. So being here now is strange for me. I remember a few things- I think where you're sitting is where my papa used to sit and watch football on the old beat up couch. The study used to be Uncle Louis' room and the dining room used to be the garage. Everything else; the massive car park, the gardens, the patio, were put in."

Dianna pursed her lips. “Sounds to me like in a way he didn’t want to let go of Niall.”

Harry recalled seeing the dirty old sofa in the corner of the study, put there in plain view of the desk like an unwarranted monument. “Sounds to me like he isn’t as finished with Rome as we think he is.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may let the next chapter hang a day longer because I want to get some more comments and kudos going. The faster you click those buttons the faster I update. 
> 
> Who can tell me what Crystal was quoting there? No cheating, I need lot's of comments.


	8. Chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly harry exercising new friendly duties and Louis being dramatic about being in Rome while Harry slowly gets under his skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Thanks for all the comments, I plan on replying to all of them, I just don’t want to clog them just yet. Please if you have anything to say about what is going on in the story do not be scared to comment and get a convo flowing as long as it is respectful and pertains to the storyline. Thank you for the hits and kudos as well, they serve a good purpose for ratings. Please hit the kudos button if you are a new reader and you like what you are reading. Certain topics of discussion between the characters in the chapter are a little sensitive but don’t worry I don’t delve into those kinds of topics any deeper than that.  
> If you guys see any heading saying 'Day- whatever number' please ignore that was for me to keep track of how long they spent in Rome and I am trying to catch all and delete. This is unbeta-ed so forgive me if anything seems off, I'm trying to make this whole thing add up to something.
> 
> The radical lgbt group I use in the fic is based on a real group but their storyline in the fic is purely fictional and does not reflect on the real life group. -(I have to put this in the opening notes)

**_~'Rome is the city of echoes, the city of illusions, and the city of yearning'~Giotto di Bondone._ **

**Louis pov**

By the time he had his morning tea Louis’ breakdown had defused. He laughed at himself for his irrational behavior toward a perfectly normal situation. It was natural for a guy who knew how to play a piano to be playing a tune on one that was right in his face. It was natural for Louis to think about Old Harry and what he thought up about him. It was natural for him to grieve something he never got to have. Seeing New Harry at that piano brought a stark reminder of the sad juxtaposition that was his presence in Louis’ life at this age. Seeing how far apart they were in years was bound to stir up feelings of anger and regret. But Louis was okay now. He had slept on it, thought it over. 

When Harry told him in the park that his old feelings had been resolved and replaced by mere respect, and Louis subsequently proposed friendship, he should have been happy but instead he got jealous of _Nick_ . But now with the new morning sun up, clearing away the toxic bits, Louis was all fresh and ready to support Harry, whoever he chose to date. It is what friends do. And who was to say they couldn’t enjoy a close friendship across their age gap of twenty eight years? For this to work the _respect_ had to be mutual.

They all stood in the driveway, waiting for the chauffeurs to bring the cars around. Louis glanced at his surroundings; the sky was as blue as a robin’s egg today, pitching sun, perfect for the Saturday Harry had planned. Harry was rather spirited this morning in a shirt jack and denim knee length shorts, a little black digital camera hanging from his neck. Louis observed him bouncing around while giving out copies of the itinerary he made for sightseeing around the city.

“Harry, where do you find time to do all these things?” Dianna was astonished taking a look at it.

Pushing back the flaps of his dark blazer to shove his hands inside the pockets of his camel-colored corduroy trousers, Louis cocked his head into Crystal’s copy of the booklet, the skin on his neck stretching out of his purple knitted sweater. He had decided on fun and casual, relaxing his usual blow-out down to one side with a greyer piece hanging over his forehead, and wondered now if he had over-thought it. As his eyes grazed the page, his brows darkened.

“What is it?” Crystal eyed him, then the paper again. “It starts with an hour at Castel Sant Angelo, a quick stop at Tiberino island straight to Capitoline hill for a night walking tour then head back home to Esquilino.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to the island today,” Louis wanted to throw up. “It’s just a little too much running around. We’ll skip that one.”

Harry observed him. “I hope I didn’t do something wrong?”

Louis did not hear him. It was Crystal who leaned in his ear. “It’s typical uncle Louis. He hates Rome. If we all packed up to leave now he’d jump for joy.”

Louis heard her, and he also saw the deep frown Harry reacted with; as if to say ‘Why on earth anyone would want to leave this enchanted city?’ Louis prayed he never had to know the feeling.

As they stepped toward the limos, Nailee grabbed Louis’ wrist. “Wait, we can’t leave Bruce.”

Crystal tusked. “Nay, come on, we’ll be late. Bruce is fine. He has a whole big yard to play until we get back.”

Louis opened the door for her. Harry was about to head in the other limo with Nick, Dianna and Freddie but the little girl clawed his waist.

“Come with me and Granddad. I’m angry with him and Mummy. I will only talk to you.”

Harry laughed bashfully. He looked to Louis and Crystal who both nodded in disdain.

Nailee sat between Harry and Louis but kept her arms folded and her mouth turned down.

“So, are we excited to see Castel Sant' Angelo today?” Louis tried to cheer her up. 

She side eyed him and turned to Harry. “Tell Granddad Bruce would have loved to see the mausoleum with us.”

Harry looked over to Louis, stuck for words.

Louis said on the dot; “We can take Bruce to the park tomorrow like we did yesterday, alright, Nay? Today is for us to get acquainted with the city. Plus, dogs aren’t allowed in certain places. I’ll tell you what- we’ll bring him back a treat, okay?” He looked at her, hoping for a sign of forgiveness. The girl rested her head on his arm, appeased. 

Harry’s face broke out into a dimpled smile and Louis caught it, taking a deep breath so as not to think about the last time he saw that particular smile; when Harry had dipped his head in a taxi, leaving Louis on the sidewalk of the hotel Lamure.

*

**Louis pov**

“Is everything alright, Mr Tomlinson?” Harry asked with a teasing nuance as they stepped out of the cars fifteen minutes later to cross the Ponte Sant’Angelo to the mausoleum. “You went pale when Crystal mentioned the Island tour.” He hung back with Louis, letting the others take the lead.

Louis sighed, feeling his blood retreat from his face; passing all the statues along the bridge, eyeing the one ahead of St Michael and the one above the hospital on Tiberino island not far, had him thinking how they were always looming over as though offering help but never actually giving any when you needed it.

“Of course,” he replied, everyone in earshot. “I just don’t want Nailee to get tired.”

Nailee skipped ahead of the others towards the castle, gasping at the towering statues. 

Crystal hooted. “I don’t think she’s gonna be tired any time soon.”

As they neared a string of tented booths, Crystal nudged her uncle. He looked at her and she pointed her chin to where a young woman with long painted nails was sitting alone at a small table looking bored with an orange marble-like globe. Louis immediately got it.

“No,” he said right away. He refocused on the young woman out of curiosity. She had large opal eyes and thick dark hair that crept out from her head-wrap and down her waist. She wore traditional gypsy clothing but had a bored, aloof air that was the signature of her generation, and Louis wondered where the first gypsy who had read him was, if she was still alive, and if this young girl was related to her in any way. If he reached out into the mist of the years gone by and recalled correctly, the booth was in the same spot, so it might be.

He was propped his hands on Crystal’s shoulders and was in the middle of steering her away when Dianna chuckled. “Wanna try, Harry?”

She grabbed Harry’s hand and shot towards the booth. Louis started to inwardly panic for all kinds of reasons. What if Harry gets a name and hightails in pursuit of the person he is destined to be with and forgets all about Louis? What if that name is Louis and he comes after him? Louis didn't want to think what Dan would say if that happened. 

The young man shook his head tentatively. “I’m not sure. I would rather be surprised about what my future holds. I’m not ready to hear it if it’s bad news.” 

Louis released some of his held breath _. I absolutely agree, that name can be very bad news. Especially when you spend years waiting for nothing._

“What about you, Crystal?” Dianna tried again, already pulling out the fee written on the table banner. The gypsy girl smiled politely and looked at Crystal.

“True love readings are free," she said, encouraging her.

Dianna’s eyes went wild and she gently pushed Crystal forward.

The girl smoothed the ball in an alluring fashion that made Louis nervous and reminiscent, and he wished now they had walked along the other side of the bridge. He took hold of Nailee’s hand as they watched the gypsy in action. She seemed to be focusing her mind on the ball, rubbing it as though testing its heat. She darted her eyes at Crystal. They remained locked on her for nearly a minute, before shooting towards the mausoleum, reminding Louis eerily of the other woman who had read him years ago. She looked at the ancient building for no more than five seconds before blinking and frankly producing a name.

“Gregory.”

Crystal snorted sceptically. “Gregory? Well that’s just phony.”

They all looked at her. 

“Come, on. Gregory? As in Pope Gregory who renamed the building standing right over there?” she said in a deadpan, extending her arm to Castle Sant' Angelo.

Nailee let out a laugh that caused Harry to laugh which made Louis finally release his held breath and laugh too. Only deep down he did not find it amusing at all. Now he began to wonder if Niall had been right. If that fortune teller had said the first name that popped up in her mind. The only piece of _crystal ball_ information that Louis clung to as truth was that Niall was his soulmate. Everything else turned out to be bull.

The gypsy girl was clearly not amused. “The readings do not lie.” 

-Where did he hear _that_ before? It had been years since Louis untangled himself from the web of gypsies and empathic readings. It was true, they worked sometimes like with him and Niall. It just didn’t turn into a happy ending for him. He was glad though that Crystal was not about to get wrapped up in a tide she may very well be better off outside of. And he was about to tell her so, but something in the moment the gypsy girl had made the statement gripped his attention. While she was declaring it, her eyes had gripped Louis, flickered to Harry and then boomeranged to Louis again, as if giving a secret code or message meant only for him. It made every hair stand on the back of his neck, and he squeezed Nailee's hand tighter.

“I always knew you’d end up with a centuries-old pope, Sis,” Freddie was snickering now as he and Nick had rejoined them and been filled in on what just happened.

"Excuse me, can you tell us if it's a soulmate or a twin soul?" Louis had not planned it. The words just rang out like a harbinger for an Apocalypse.

Everyone except Crystal and Harry looked at Louis with different levels of confusion. Freddie and Dianna looked ready to ask what the hell is a twin soul, and Louis knew his mum already blabbed to Crystal about that years ago when she was a tween going through that curious phase, snooping around and asking questions about her father and Rome when Louis was not ready to talk about it. Heck she was an adult now and he was still not ready. But Harry, on the other hand, stood straight-faced with his arms folded, waiting for the girl's reply like he was the one asking. Louis sensed it to be him doing his best supportive _friend_ stint.

"Soulmate," the gypsy girl said clearly, no hesitation. Louis kept her gaze, searching the premises of her limbal ring for any signs of a lie. Satisfied that there was none, he sank back and sighed, and everyone became distracted with their own devices _._

“I don't believe in this stuff,” he heard Crystal whine to Dianna. 

_That, of course, is a result of my influence,_ his mind replied. _Your grand mama and your mother would beg to disagree with our thinking._

“Are you okay, Granddad?” Nailee looked up at Louis and he realized his palms were sweating. 

“I’m fine. It’s just the heat out here,” he quickly told her. “Let’s all move along,” he shuffled and steered everyone away from the booth, not daring to look back at the gypsy girl. Harry chose to walk with him, Crystal running up to her mother and Nick two steps in front of everyone looking bewildered in a rumpled coach jacket and translucent sunglasses.

Cackling at a humored Crystal, they all walked into the building, save for Harry and Louis who were left strolling behind on the Ponte Sant’Angelo. Harry stopped to take a few shots of the river below and became hypnotized by the banisters.

“The ancestors built it quite splendidly, didn’t they?” Louis quipped observing the way Harry admired the architecture of the bridge as it stood over the river. “The river has significance to the Italian people. Every year on New Years’ Eve the locals jump in from various points as a way to ring in the new year with peace and happiness.”

"Sure, reenact the proscription of 82 BC...” Harry said smartly, grumbling a list of other citing as he snapped away.

“What are you on about?”

“Just saying 'come a long way since innocent citizens, babies and criminals alike would be thrown in by the ancients,” Harry said, eyes stolid on the stagnant water.

Louis cracked an amused grin. “That’s the point of the tradition. It’s like a promise. You jump in alive and you come back out alive. If you survive something as robust and intimidating as the Tiber at the very start of the year then you can get through anything the rest of the year." 

“Yeah but it’s still a burial ground for murdered people.”

“Hundreds of years ago,” Louis laughed with an eyebrow. “Just like every other square inch of the globe.”

Harry went silent, put out by Louis’ reasoning.

Louis shook his head. “I swear, you and Niall would have been great friends.”

“Why? He was just as smart as I am?” Harry smirked.

Louis gave him that. “And as _altiloquent.”_

Harry folded his arms in protest.

Louis grinned. “He and Hailee used to go on and on about the Tiber.., the mausoleum…- Come on. Let's catch up to the others.”

Louis led him toward Castel Sant’Angelo. Harry walked blindly towards the entrance looking up at the high statue overhead. 

“ _Hadrian's Mausoleum_ is the former name," Louis informed,"That statue you’re looking at is of the _Archangel Michael_ who appeared to Pope Gregory in a vision to symbolize the peace and healing they had only dreamed of before. Legend has it peace came upon the land shortly after the vision.”

“As St. Gregory- aka Crystal’s true love- was about to cross the bridge he saw the angel at the top of the then mausoleum in the act of sheathing his sword," Harry added without prompt while casually reloading his film. "It was interpreted as a sign the pestilence had ended, which, like you just said, it did end soon afterwards. Hadrian’s Mausoleum then became _Castel Sant’Angelo_ ; Castle of the holy angel.” 

There was a pause in which Harry snapped a few more pictures and Louis tried to suppress a super impressed smile.

"Do you believe in that kind of thing?" Harry asked in a half whisper to break the silence. 

"-That dreams come true? Yes, sometimes," Louis replied while thinking about Old Harry and this Harry in front of him.

“Not only that. You believe the angels guard this place? Protect the people who come here asking for peace and healing?”

Louis looked up at the highest statue of the wide cylindrical fortress. “No,” he said sadly. “I do not.”

His gaze meticulously on Louis, Harry stopped and snapped a picture of him. Louis admired the fascinated look on his face as he took pictures of the walls and bastions. 

“Hm, Interesting. I would have thought you did since you already believe in supernatural stuff like- what’s that term you used again?”

To avoid answering, Louis looked straight ahead. He stopped and let out a huge gasp. Thinking quickly, he yanked Harry to the side. They were now in an impromptu embrace, Harry’s hair in his eyes, the camera hanging from his neck, daggering between them. Bushwhacked, Harry threw him a wounded look.

“Sorry.” Louis raked his hair back best he could and steered him back in a beeline to the entrance. “That’s the spot where- I found Niall.”

Harry gave a sad gasp.

“I know I can’t control all who tread on it but I hate to do so myself.”

“It’s okay, Love,” Harry nodded fast, “I totally understand.”

Louis’ eyes nearly popped out of his head. Harry did not see as they were now facing front and walking along but Louis was in inner disarray. _Love?_

“As we’re on the topic, do you mind if we all skip the Tiberino Island tour? It’s just that the hospital where Niall died is there. I’m not ready to be so close to it.”

A sympathetic ‘o’ formed on Harry’s lips as he batted a strand of hair from his eyelashes with his thumb. His knuckles were massive yet smooth-looking. “Of course. I’ll tell the others it’s been cancelled and we can go to the park instead.”

“Great,” Louis smiled gratefully as they neared the entrance. 

"So you got your wish; the mausoleum," he continued the talk. "How do you like it so far?"

"I still can't believe I'm here. Did I tell you I made a replica of this place for show and tell?"

Louis shook his head, ears piqued.

"I used a can of tuna," Harry grinned, "covered with brown paper, and toy soldiers as the statues. We had to get creative. My mum helped me. She used a shit ton of plasticine for the river and the bridge. When I told her I was actually going to Rome she screamed ‘You're going to see the giant tuna!’"

Louis laughed.

"I'm serious,'' Harry giggled as they walked on. "She actually said that."

"That's funny, I used to say the same thing."

Harry gave him a disbelieving look but Louis did not get time to argue; he turned front and the conversation was swiftly replaced by an inward panic. The mausoleum was crawling with people, tourists taking pictures of the angels, and kids eating crunchy snacks, but when they moved further inside Louis was hit with a nostalgia the capacity of a lightning bolt. The frescoes on the walls, the rotunda shaped ceiling, Niall's voice when he led Louis like an excited little puppy through the crowd- it all rushed back to him.

"Are you okay?" Harry glanced at him before taking his first picture of the interiors.

"I haven't been in here for ages," replied Louis, remembering how he and Niall used to visit when Hailee worked there.

"Is it the same as back then?" Harry said, drifting a little too close to Louis for comfort.

He looked around the hall. "No. It has changed a bit. Not the paintings though. The flooring..." he swept forward to tap his feet on the marble, "The flooring may have been revamped. And certain booths modernized."

Harry smiled along with what he said like an excited child. _Nailee_ wasn't even as enthusiastic.

They made their way deeper in, and Louis took hold of Harry's hand as they breached a staircase. It wasn't the sort of thing he did, but it was Harry. At least that was the only explanation he could come up with when he inwardly gasped at his spontaneity. He doesn't normally sneak into the kitchen at night to steal and binge on leftover pizza-it was Harry. He didn't usually leave a heap pile of desk work to go traipsing in the rain- it was Harry. As they made their way up the winding staircase he laughed at how much he let this Harry get under his skin. 

"Are you sure you want to lose the others?" Harry asked, a slight worry overcasting his tone. Louis drew out a slow shake of the head knowing he had left the others well off downstairs gawking at the embossmented artwork on the state room ceiling.

"They'll be fine. I know this place inside out, so if they get lost I will find them."

The maze-like passageways opened up into small rooms. As they reached the top they ducked into one dedicated to housing showcased medieval weaponry and armour made of ivory, silver and wood.

Not many people were in this room, and Louis stood behind Harry as he took a few shots of the frescoes and cases. Other people were taking pictures, the sounds blending with Harry's camera flashes. He watched Harry raise the thing one more time, and then he heard it; and A disembodied, echoing voice pleaded with him in one word; _Louis._

He was frightened out of his skin and did not know he was falling until he bumped into Harry and nearly sent him crashing into the glass weaponry case. 

It was farcical, the way he jumped for no reason in a room scattered with other people. He tried to give a heavy apology followed by a hearty laugh at his stupidity but neither he or Harry was into the latter.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Harry’s eyes moved over Louis like a medical examiner. “We can go back to the house if you want.”

“No, no. I just,” he spun around, still jittery. He turned back to Harry with a deep breath, ready to be contained again. “I’m fine. Let's carry on.” He marched over to another case.

*

**Harry pov**

Harry didn’t leave Louis' sight after that, not even to wander off and take pictures on his own. He worried about Louis, wondering if he should have changed the itinerary to somewhere less triggering for the man. He was jumpy from the get go. There was a watchful alertness in his manner that was not appropriate for soaking up the beauty of old architecture.

They made their way through the eating area sheltered only by overhead vines that let in sprinkles of sunlight. Harry looked up at the green canopy, disbelieving of the beauty of it all.

People were dining at little perched tables placed against the concave walls of the inner balconies where the two men met back up with the others.

"Ooh! Gelato!" Nailee said as a little boy passed by slurping on one. Louis opened his billfold, asking around for who else wanted a cold drink but Harry was not paying much attention. He spotted a petite woman with dark shades on and a yellow thin strapped purse on her shoulder over a black suit, pretending to be with a crowd of tourists a few paces away but no doubt looking their way. It looked a whole lot like she was eavesdropping on them. She snapped her head back to the crowd as she noticed Harry had caught her.

"Earth to Harry," Louis said, waving his fingers in front of Harry's eyes. 

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want one too?"

Harry nodded up a storm as if overly making up for ignoring the man. But his mind was still on the yellow pursed lady.

Louis and Nailee walked off, swallowed up by the crowd and the others went to grab a table. As soon as Harry was left alone to search for the woman, she descended on him. 

“You are to listen to me very carefully," she said, appearing behind him and clasping his arm.

He jumped and turned around, his back to the others.

Getting a close-up look, Harry scanned her neat bob and red lipstick. He blinked in recognition. "Wait a minute! It was you spying on us in the park the other day."

The woman waved a dismissive hand. "I can't say much here, but I’m a friend. Meet me at the park Tuesday, six am. Tell no one. Especially not Louis." She unclasped her arm and watched her step as she clucked off in her heels.

*

**Louis pov**

As the afternoon progressed a stroll in the park was just the ticket. An ice cream vendor was perfectly placed under an umbrella in the heat and there were other children around for Nailee to mingle with. Although she wanted to play with Harry.

The child ran around trying to catch him, and he stopped out of breath and sprawled out on the grass. Nailee then ran over and gathered the longer section of hair at the top of his head and clasped her little green barrette in it. Harry did a series of kooky poses and she pretended her hands were a camera, making snapping noises.

Louis paused and blew an inward raspberry at the sight.

 **"** Would it hurt you to sit on the grass one time uncle Louis?" Crystal rolled her eyes as she stood arms folded next to him. They looked like two members of the president's security personnel rigid and scoping in comparison to the others who were already seated. The only thing making them look normal was the little pot of dirt in Louis' hands. While he was buying the snowcone earlier he spotted a terra cotta booth and had an idea. He bought it for Harry so he could have something to make his flowers last a bit longer than a vase. Of course he had to buy seeds for it too as Nailee was delighted to point out. That and actual dirt magically wasn't available at the booth so when they parked, he walked with Crystal to a nearby market and bought some promix and seeds and they had just caught up with the others.

“You want an ice cream, Nay?” Louis ignored his niece now and called after the child, who was being tickled by Harry on the grass now.

“No, Granddad. I’m still full from the gelato,” she shouted through her giggles, getting one in herself in Harry’s armpit.

"Just give him the pot and get it over with," Crystal hissed for him alone to hear. "If you want I can distract Nay for a bit while you two go for a stroll."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Do you even know what you're saying? How will that look?"

Crystal was about to reply and Louis really didn't want to hear whatever it was so he rushed over to Harry, stooped down and handed him the pot. 

"It has seeds in it," he said when Harry looked at it muddled. He did not give him time to say thank you, he was already racing back to Crystal's side. 

"Smooth," she deadpanned. "Very Casanova."

"Oh, shut up."

"Well, on another note, I bumped into this guy in the mausoleum foodline. Literally bumped into him and spilled his drink. He was nice about it, and-uh- and he gave me his number." 

Louis recoiled. His mother had tried to set Crystal up so many times with upper class men since Ronan but she always said she was fine and she wasn’t ready. Louis had grown to think she was a loner like him. Even blamed himself for setting that example for her. Fact that she actually took the number in the first place was a record. She was not making eye contact when she said it and he hoped to god she wasn’t afraid of his reaction to her getting back out there. He did not want Nailee to grow up an only child like he did. 

"Oh, don't look at me like that. It’s not like I'm planning to call anyway."

"This stranger have a name?"

"Gregory," Freddie said on beat, not looking at them but clearly eavesdropping.

Crystal hit him a tap on the head. "His name is not Gregory. It's Duncan or Donovan or something. I don't know, I'm not digging in my purse for the napkin right now."

"When did this happen?" asked Louis, wondering why he didn’t get a look at the guy.

"Where did you and Newbie drift off when we were inside the mausoleum?" replied Crystal with a tone.

Louis dropped the subject and they watched as Nailee played on the swing set and laughed at Harry’s lame jokes until she was finally ready for that ice-cream. They all got cones, Louis himself finishing a large two-scoop sundae while strolling back to the cars. Once in the car park, Crystal handed Louis her cone to run to the ladies room before leaving.

As they waited by the vehicle, the owner of an RV that was parked up a bit too close to the chauffeured cars came to head out as well, and Louis fired up a bit of conversation assuring the woman that she could make the turn out without scratching their vehicle. Harry and Nailee were having some kind of who-finishes-eating-first competition in the background, and as she turned, the woman smiled and commented; “So nice to see three generations of men having fun together. Most boys these days wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out in public with their fathers and grandfathers. You are lucky.” She then tossed Nailee a wink before driving away.

Left in the smoke from her exhaust, Louis was already sour at the uninformed remark but had to quickly shove it down because Harry was now handing him his ice cream as well and stooping down to an upset Nailee.

The little girl frowned from the mountainous ice cream sundae she was devouring.

Harry wiped the extras from the corners of her downward mouth and tried to smile positively.

“Nailee, now, now,” Louis tried, knowing that face.

“She said I look like a boy,” Nailee protested, features dimming further.

Harry rubbed her arms up and down. “And that’s okay. There is nothing wrong with looking like a boy. Lots of girls look like boys and are some of the most beautiful people,” he said as soft as a lullaby. “Here,” -he cupped her chin, “and here,” - he indexed her heart.

It was not the sour Louis was trying to stuff down now but the proud feeling replacing it as Nailee broke out into a smile and flung her arms around Harry.

Looking on while holding four ice-creams in a rainbow of melting flavours dripping down his hands, Louis reckoned that Harry would be a great parent one day.

*

On their way home, the car in front carrying Dianna, Nick and Freddie slowed down via Della Fontanella, close to the old joint Louis and Niall used to frequent. Louis watched as the familiar awning grew larger until the car stopped in front of it, and he broke out in a sweat. 

"Wait why are they stopping here? Dianna, why is she getting out?" He nearly flipped when he saw her turn to their car and gesture for them to come out.

Crystal opened her door and emerged mumbling that Dianna must want to go to the ladies room and that she better go with her, and before Louis could protest that Dianna could have gone before, Crystal added that Louis should come in too and buy take-away dinner to ease Marietta.

"Women," Louis grumbled, and Harry gave him a look. 

"Yes Louis, _women_." 

Louis, catching the grating tone, looked at him. 

"Harry, I didn't mean to…" he said, meeting Harry's offended eyes.

"So tactful, Louis," whispered Harry, eyes half laughing, half bitter as he too got out of the car.

"I'm sorry," Louis said after climbing out and telling Nailee to stay inside. "It's just that...being back here...this restaurant is..."

"-another walk down memory lane," Harry turned and finished with a sigh. 

Louis confirmed with a long nod. A quick look at the old building as they walked up to it, he blanched. "By god, he looks like a younger version of Jaleel."

Harry looked and saw a young man in an apron and toque emerge and lean on the wall. He lit a cigarette and from the terrified look on Louis' face, Harry contrived they didn't have to go inside. 

Louis blew a sigh of relief. "You must think I'm a goddamn mess.”

"No. I completely understand." 

Louis stared him down and yeah his eyes were full of understanding but Louis could care less. He needed to get back in the damn car and spare himself.

"The thing is, the owner, Jaleel, meant a lot to me and Niall. If he is not in there, if he's not alive anymore, I don't want to know. I don't think I'll be able to…"

"I get it," Harry said, coming closer to him. "But…"

Louis shot him a look. "What?"

"Don't you think if he is alive he'd want to know what happened to you?"

Louis wanted to give a quick reprisal but found he had none. It was a good point.

But not good enough. Louis began backtracking his steps to the car. 

Harry grabbed his hand. "If he passed away at least you owe it to his family to say how nice he was to you. I'm sure that would mean a lot to them."

Before Louis could deliberate, a spate of clamouring teenagers flooded out the restaurant separating the two men, and all they could do was hold silent eye contact for a while until they dissipated. Louis could tell without Harry saying a word that he was silently saying, 'Hey, see they are all leaving so we can go in now.' But even as reassuring as the man was, Louis knew he would be rooted to the spot whether the restaurant was full or as empty as an upside down glass.

"I'll be right beside you."

Looking into Harry's eyes, Louis was truly about to consider, when Crystal and Dianna flooded out chuckling.

"We were looking at the menu and the owner couldn't stop staring me down," Crystal said, picking up on Louis' agitation.

Dianna put in, "Told her she looks like an old friend. He was so old, I was tempted to ask him if his name was Gregory."

Crystal pretended to whack her as the two women quickened to the cars.

Realization -and relief- dawned on Louis, and he looked at Harry who was already giving him an elated look.

Louis stopped Crystal, eyes burning like an undisturbed candle. "The owner; How does he look?"

"Um, old but sensible, spritely," replied Crystal, mildly curious.

"Come," he said, gaining hope, "Help me pick out the menu," he took her hand and marched for the entrance. 

“Uncle Louis, no! You are not gonna set me up with a guy ninety years old just because you want me to start dating!” Crystal whined, making an effort to pull away and run back to the car.

He was about to tell her the man was not ninety when he realized he forgot something and turned around.

"Wait," Louis called out, noticing Harry trekking back to the car. "You too, you're not getting away."

Harry grinned broadly and joined them as Louis pushed the door open.

They walked up to the counter at the same time the old man glanced at them before being distracted by the chef inside the kitchen. He quickly repeated somebody's order and then rushed to the register, eyes clashing with Louis. Lines streaking his drooping skin and his face spotted with dark pallor of age, but Jaleel's footsteps were far from funereal.

"Louis!?" the man said in a twanging accent. He froze and squinted for a moment, wondering if he was even right. "My eyes have been blessed this day," the man cried in Italian when Louis nodded rapidly in reply.

"In the flesh," Louis grinned. Crystal looked confused at Harry who couldn't help but grin with dimples.

Jaleel opened up the counter barrier and flew over, grabbing Louis up in a hug. The two men swayed and muttered in Italian tears in their red eyes.

"Louis, my boy," Jaleel said as they broke apart. "I have not seen you since Niall's funeral. You forgot about your papa, aye?"

Louis burst into laughter and more tears as Jaleel grabbed him up in his arms again, patting his back. Crystal looked at Harry again and this time he too was crying. 

"Hello," she tried to include herself, hearing her father's name. "I'm Crystal,"

Jaleel paused, looking at her expressionless face. "Oh, Little Crissy!?" he glanced at Louis for confirmation and got an affirmative nod. "Holy dear you were just in here. By god, I should have said your father's name because obviously you don't remember me. What if you hadn't come back in!?"

Crystal grinned stupidly looking to Louis for help. 

"Well, she was a baby when we used to bring her here."

"True, but look at her, all grown up splitting image of Niall- You know, Louis and your father helped me pick this place up once. Great heads for business those two. I hired your father to wash dishes and he ended up getting me out of bankruptcy."

"And this laddy is your…?" Jaleel eyed Harry brightly with a raised brow between him and Crystal. 

She blushed. "Oh no, he's,"

"A friend," Louis said quickly with a slight blush.

"Harry," the young man put his hand out, and Louis gulped. Jaleel's eyes washed over Louis as he shook Harry's hand, and Louis looked to the terrazzo floor.

"Tell me how my father saved the day?" Crystal implored. 

"Funny story- come in- there I was going over the weekly sheets and…" he led her behind the counter.

Harry took the moment alone to check on Louis. "How are you holding up there?"

"Great," Louis said as Jaleel and Crystal laughed. The conversation seemed to have branched out and she was now telling him about the company and her step siblings and daughter. 

"Niall has a granddaughter?" The man gasped. Louis was jerked to tears with how the man, some of Niall like he was still here.

"Uncle Louis, will you bring them inside? I want to introduce them," she said to applause from Jaleel who began to shout into the kitchen in Italian. 

The young man they saw earlier came out frowning and pasted on a lukewarm smile to greet Crystal. 

"My brother's grandson. He just finished highschool and I want him to inherit this place after I go," Jaleel was saying as Harry dived out to call the others in. Louis understood, as Jaleel himself only had girls.

Soon the whole gang flooded in the restaurant and the counter was crowded with greetings. A boisterously happy Jaleel stretched his hand out to a table by the window and told Louis they should stay for a meal on the house in Italian.

"Grazie," replied Louis, mind already made up to order takeout to last the weekend as well. They all gathered at the table and talked and laughed and listened to Jaleel's stories about Louis and Niall. And Louis was grateful he didn't mention anything about old Harry. 

That is until he goaded Louis through the kitchen and out to the back of the building by the dumpster.

"The young man," Jaleel said, walking out ahead of Louis and then turning to face him with a solid expression. "I see how attentive he is, waiting on you, hand and foot," he fixed Louis with a pellucid gaze. 

Oh boy. "You noticed that huh?"

"I also couldn't help but notice his name," his eyes grew larger, the moldy bags under them stretching downward. 

Louis sighed sharply. "He's twenty six. He's not my twin soul." 

"Oh," Jaleel's eyes fell. "I thought you'd finally found him. Must be difficult keeping him at bay."

"Are you kidding me? Someone that young at my age?"

"Kiddo, when you've lived as long as I have then you can talk about your age. All my daughters married well over their age group. You remember my last, Claudette, she married someone a year older than me. We got on well except he died several years ago- throat cancer. Left her well off though. And to boot, mi Mama had me at twenty two. You want to guess how old mi papa was? Forty."

Louis stiffened. None of what the man said was comforting.

Jaleel folded his arms, the look on his face taking Louis back to his youth. "I would hate for you to wonder about Harry for the rest of your life. He paused to let the words sink in and then said; “But if you see this young man as nothing more than a prodigy, then you must make it clear."

Determined to take the old man's advice and stop encouraging Harry, Louis followed him back inside.

Leaving Jaleel to give orders to the kitchen staff and flipping the barrier to get back over to the table, Louis saw a figure halt in front of the counter. Raising his head, a blanket of yesteryear coincidence was thrown on him once more.

"Cuddles?"

Louis flushed, embarrassed at the name drop. Heads turned from the table. He glanced and saw Freddie about to faint. Harry turned away when Louis caught his eye but Louis did catch the inquisitive glare.

The woman walked up to him, her face porey and soft yet with a corner edge of masculinity that must have reverted with age. Her hair was short and she was dressed in ambiguous clothing making it hard for Louis to know what she went as nowadays but the slight lip stain on her plump lips told him enough.

"Alexi," Louis shook himself out of his trance and offered his hand.

The woman grinned and took it. Louis smiled; her teeth were the same, riders, way too many for her mouth but somehow giving her the charm Louis found attractive.

"What a pleasure running into you. How have you been?" she said with the same melodious voice Louis didn't think he'd hear again.

They did not say much, just some small talk as Louis still couldn't find a way to fully ground himself in reality, until a tall guy entered the restaurant dangling a bunch of keys. The man came to her side mumbling something to her intimately. She didn't bother to introduce him, he just gave a head gesture of acknowledgement to Louis and started walking away, and she followed, waving a quiet goodbye at Louis, who waved back foolishly.

The door ringer went off as they exited and Louis was still rooted to the spot.

"Old Friend, Boss?" Nick asked, as Louis finally joined them. Freddie laughed.

"Or should we say _Cuddles_?" Dianna teased, and Louis saw Harry go pale and reserved. 

"You should invite your friend for dinner sometime," Crystal said, her eyes in her phone but the corner of her lips curled upwards.

"That would be highly inappropriate," Louis said, squeezing in next to Harry to subtly cheer him up. As his arm rubbed on Harry's he thought maybe Jaleel was right. Maybe he shouldn't be giving all these mixed signals.

"Seriously, Daddy, who was that?" Dianna prompted. "Old cuddle buddy?"

"Mind yourself, Dianna, there's a child present," Louis threw a potato chip at her, "Why does your generation have to be so prurient?" 

Everyone uproared at the underhand confession and Harry smiled a little but only because of the domino effect around the table.

When time came to leave and they all piled back to the cars, Louis stopped as the restaurant door closed behind him. He did not know all these emotions were still in there; sobs were breaking through without a warning. A concerned Harry who was in front of him, turned back and touched him on his back, and Louis winced. Louis straightened up with a suss glance to the others, who were not really paying attention as they climbed into the cars. 

Acknowledging his line of sight with a quick look, Harry's demeanor clouded and he stepped away from Louis. He pulled out a napkin from his pocket and formally offered it to Louis with two fingers, like one would fancily hold a cigarette. Clearing his throat as Louis took it and blotted his face, Harry began to move off. 

"Harry," Louis called out to him suddenly. "Thank you," he said when Harry rushed back around to face him.

Harry gave him a gracious, sympathetic smile, and they got back in the car.

*

**Louis pov**

That night there was a sharp knock on Louis’ bedroom door.

"Who is it?”

"Harry," a muffled voice came through the door.

Louis' heart lurched. He was all ready for bed, Dressed in his shorts, his bare chest out. He leaped over to the cupboard and grabbed the first thing his hand touched. Stuffing his arms in the material blindly, Louis opened the door.

Harry opened his mouth and paused, eyes scanning Louis like a moving spotlight.

Louis looked down and blew. He had put on a fluffy bathrobe, his chest hairs saying ‘hello.’

 _Fuck,_ he thought, pulling the strings together and making a knot. He then glanced at the folder in Harry's flushed hand.

"It’s much too late to talk about work,” Louis said, noticing Harry bending his neck to see the features of the room behind him.

"No I just was wondering if you had an extra blanket," Harry pushed past him. He saw Harry's eyes fall on the huge brown cherry English bed. Louis gave it a quick check; stack of pillows against the leather tufted headboard, a well made up duvet with a slight ruffle on the left side where Louis lay before he came knocking. He hoped it did not give away his loneliness on such a big bed.

“Nice room,” Harry said way too casually to sound natural as Louis moved to the closet wondering why Marietta didn’t supply Harry with enough bedding. As Louis searched through he replied with a hum that came out extra peppy. Small talk, a hallmark of the experimenting stage. Even with his years of experience and Harry’s Communications degree (he had looked at his resume) neither of them seemed to have mastered the typical strategy.

“So are you ready to see the Vatican tomorrow?” Harry said, rushing to the bed and taking a seat on the side.

Louis turned around with the blanket and hesitated as he saw him propping his legs up on it. “I’m not that fond of the Vatican.”

“I thought so. You and Niall were gay rights activists. He worked inside the Vatican. I can imagine, trying to juggle _The Herculean Times_ and his job must have been hard.”

Louis looked away. Niall had wanted to quit his job and work full time on the journal but then he had Crystal and he had to prioritize. The money was just too good. But Louis was not in the mood to talk about any of it with Harry.

He moved to the bed and sat, resting the folded blanket between them.

“Niall kept his name off print," he finally said, coming to the conclusion he owed it to Niall to tell his story to a friend. Nobody had asked about Niall and the _Herculean Times_ in years. "Only the underground community knew he was involved,” he conveyed. “He would take copies to clubs by hand when we first started out. Some of the faithful subscribers even worked in the Vatican with him, so they all kept his secret.”

"That sounds so cool and so clandestine,” Harry beamed as he opened the folder he brought. Then as Louis grew a smile, Harry's faded, looking down at the manuscript in his hand.

“...Human trafficking, in Afghanistan,” Harry told him, voice growing deeply concerned looking in the folder. “An ex Bacha Bazi recruit wrote to the _Herculean Times_ about his experience."

"For God's sake, Harry," Louis said. “I can't publish that sort of thing. It's too depressing.”

Harry briefly glanced at him and said while refocusing on the manuscript. “No seriously Lou, this is really sad. So many go missing and turn up dead, little boys yay tall,” he gestured the height and Louis noticed his pearl-colored nails.

He blinked, leaning in as stiff as he could to read the first few lines without touching Harry. He glanced at Harry’s ear and could see the shampoo suds lodged in the curl of his helix.

Harry read aloud two paragraphs about a situation that ended fatally, and Louis, wanted to say _‘you do know you're sitting on my bed right, and need to get off, right?'_ As soon as he thought it, he rolled his eyes at his own unintentional paronomasia.

"Look Harry, it is sad," he said, noting Harry's sympathetic look, "This is why we have to do our part from where we are. Sometimes one country learns and takes pointers from another in efforts to improve the laws and such, and that helps." 

He told Harry about the protests he and Niall joined in Italy and the articles they wrote about the rights in their native countries of England and Ireland. "We wrote about stuff like the unequal age of consent laws and the problems it posed for the lgbt community. Niall's home Ireland, for example, had it harder than England where those laws were concerned."

"And that fascinates me what you guys did,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I want to do more."

"I'll tell you what, leave it here and I'll give it a look and see what I can do."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Louis said, trying not to look at his friend’s lips.

"I know you don’t want to talk about it but I found out what happened to the _Herculean Times,_ why you stopped it."

Louis felt a huge dip in spirits and quickly buoyed himself. It was one of those things Louis chose to block out.

"Yeah, I guess it goes with being the main subject of chatter around the office the newbie would hear sooner or later."

Harry nodded dolefully. “So what exactly happened? I mean, _Outrage_ was a force to reckon with. If you had them on your side _The Herculean Times_ would have been invincible right? I can’t imagine how things went sour.”

Louis thought carefully about what to say. "Yeah _OutRage_ ...Um, I had just moved back to England after Niall passed away, and I joined forces with them to try to get the journal more exposure. It was a match made in heaven but while I was doing that I was beginning a new life with Eleanor and she wanted to come on board. Who was I to say no, I didn’t think it’d be a problem. As a matter of fact it wasn’t a problem until _Outrage_ wanted me to cover their vandalism exploits. I stood up for my values and those of Niall’s repertoire so I refused to endorse their breaking and entering corporate offices and such. Now _Outrage,_ they used to send these letters to people they suspected were closeted, mostly to politicians, church clergy. But one day I was sent a letter as well basically calling me a hypocrite for marrying Eleanor. I took the letter to their headquarters and threats were thrown around by their leader, and I decided to end the _Herculean Times_. Eleanor had not long given birth to Dianna. We had two children to think about. I did it for them. I couldn’t have my family under public scrutiny. I don't know what I was thinking in the first place trying to carry on the journals after…"

"After Niall died?" Harry completed the sentence.

"Yeah, but...they weren’t all that bad. I mean I really believed in what they were about why I joined forces to begin with. They did a lot of good, staged some worthwhile protests, did a lot for change. And then there was Bolton Seven, but of course the _Herculean Times_ didn't live to see it... I miss the journal but I rather not go back to doing something that would have put my family in danger. I mean if they had outed me then Eleanor would have been ridiculed and it would have been hard on the kids. But El, she helped me start up _IColorture_ instead. She’s pretty good at business, her. But since the divorce she’s been travelling the world with Sebastian."

Louis stopped talking and breathed. He no longer wanted to talk about how he chose to give up the thing he and Niall built together.

There were a few beats of silence where they sat there and neither one had to speak because there was no tension between them, just complete understanding and support.

"That person by the counter…" Harry shifted to face Louis, the sudden thought coming to him. "Who was that?"

Louis head shot up like he was just hit with a bucket of cold water. "She was a prostitute," he replied, noting how blunt he sounded. He watched Harry's eyes move about as he silently sorted out what he just heard. Something in them dwindled.

"Oh. I'm sorry," he said eyes moving to focus on his knees. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's quite fine. It was a long time ago. She was like an escape. A nice escape but it was..."

Harry was still leaning to hear the rest but when Louis couldn't finish he straightened up. “It's okay,” he quickly pardoned. "I don't have to know your personal life."

"No, it's fine. I want to tell you. I feel like I should."

Harry sank back down to comfort.

"She used to work in this underground bar in Venice."

"Venice?"

"Yeah I stayed there for a while- anyway, we got on to a quick rapport and but I'd always leave before twelve because that's when the dancers came out. I wasn't looking to…” he looked at Harry for understanding and when he got it he continued. “So one night I was really depressed and I decided to stick around. And then she came out on the pole. I think that's when I knew I liked..." he let the words fade pointedly.

Harry nodded rapidly in understanding, eyes picking up a sudden glint it didn't have a minute ago.

"I saw her privately for three months. She'd come over to my little rundown apartment with a six pack and we'd talk and… And then one day I asked her if she wanted to move in with me. It was silly. She said no of course, and things ended that day."

Harry seemed to now be looking through Louis in thought. "You loved her?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Yeah I did, but not in a heavy, steep way. More like a lust driven, _afterglowy_ way, you know?" It was astonishing to Louis how quickly he got over Alexi after she dumped him and how quickly the remembrance of his feelings had come rushing back when he saw her in Jaleel’s. The union was fleeting but the shared memory would live on between them as theirs alone no matter how many years passed or people they moved on with. The past will always be. He was glad to know what became of her but wished so badly to go back in time if only to see Niall’s face one more time.

“And did you feel a similar way about Harry? I know you only wrote eachother but, but how deep did it go?”

Louis swallowed. He did not see that one coming. Nope. This is not the time or place to talk about Old Harry and who he really was- an embarrassing waste of Louis' time. What could Louis possibly say close to truth without it sounding like he was off his rockers? But couldn’t keep going this way. He had to put an end to New Harry’s curiosity.

“I really liked him. Even though we hadn’t met and I didn’t know what he looked like, I made up my mind that I liked him and I wanted to meet him very badly. But it didn’t happen. Instead life happened, and it became nothing more than a distant episode that I sometimes wonder if it really happened.” He ended it there with a final tone, and played it back in his head to make sure it was as vague as he meant it to be.

Harry gave a small nod, going quiet and reflecting, and Louis felt satisfied that he never had to talk or lie about Old Harry again.

“Thanks for what you said to Nailee today," Louis said after a while. "It was really nice. If it were up to me I’d have probably looked for the car and made them apologize.”

“Are you kidding? If that woman didn’t drive off, I’d throw hands. She was way outta line. And not to mention, she thought you were my father.”

“They also thought you were old enough to have a nine-year-old kid, so that’s a relief,” Louis laughed.

"Thank you for the blanket," Harry grinned as he took the folded blanket. Picking it up with a grateful hand, he got up and started walking to the door. He turned back as Louis came behind him to see him out.

"Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"If I had told you my name was Harry that weekend, would it have changed anything that happened between us?"

Louis' eyes searched the floor before looking at Harry. "No. It was of no consequence."

Harry gave him a fond smile and said "goodnight." He was on the other side of the threshold when he turned around again.

"Louis?”

“Yes Harry,” Louis said in friendly mock annoyance, hand on the doorknob.

“For some people, peace and healing are a dream come true."

Louis tossed him a semi-confused-but-trying-to-politely-agree look.

"St Michael?” Harry explained. “You said you believe dreams come true. I do hope you believe in the angels one day."

“Okay, _Mr Sunday School_ ," Louis teased, holding the door open for him to leave. He closed it as the young man disappeared, and gingerly picked up the folder. Opening it, he grew a lump in his throat as his eyes hit the words ‘Herculean Times.’ Hands beginning to shake, he kneeled and shoved the folder under his footstool. Louis then went to bed having zero intentions of ever believing in a statue again.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to point out that the minor character of Alexi is a transgender woman in case you did not catch it. I described her to the best of my ability loosely based on an eighties star I wish to not name. 
> 
> Brace yourselves for the next chapter because a piece of the puzzle will begin to unfold again. 
> 
> If those of you who know me from twitter are curious why I am not broadcasting chapter updates of this fic you guys know how stan twitter is. I am not in the mood to be scrutinized for writing about a large difference between adults just because someone might be disgusted and choose to ignore that happy healthy relationships like these between two adults do exist.


	9. Chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings-mentions of past suicidal thoughts/bullying. 
> 
> I'm uploading this one now for all you readers who are so dedicated to this.

**_~The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ **

**DAY 7 –**

On Monday morning the meeting with _IColorture_ silent partner, Mr Payne, was about to take place out on the patio. Dianna, Louis and Harry were the only three to attend as Crystal had to stay with Nailee, who caught the flu while out on the second day of sightseeing on Sunday. Harry had made sure they all got to see the colosseum and then the famous St Peter's Basilica, which Harry was really excited about. Louis found it very thoughtful he chose the church over the other parts of Vatican City because it was free to visit and didn’t want to put the company in extra expense, although Louis would have paid to browse the museums if he wasn’t so averted to visiting Niall’s former place of work. Harry had made sure all important information was on the itinerary including the opening hours and the dress code: _knees and shoulders must be covered._

What happened was after they left the Basilica Nailee insisted they go through the piazza to find a water fountain. They had underestimated how tiring the day out was getting for the nine-year-old and she filled her bottle up drinking half and throwing the rest on her face. Some of it ran down the inside of her velvet dress (which was a bad choice of clothes) and lodged in her chest area causing a shiver. While they were taking in the baroques with Harry going wild for the obelisk and all the sculptures, and Louis relishing his reactions, the evening had set in and it wasn’t until they got back to the house after sunset that Crystal noticed her daughter’s mild fever.

The fever had Louis worried but he also found it hard to keep what Harry asked him the night before the Vatican outing off his mind. His first thought had been... _Yes._ And when he had looked up and he gazed into those eyes _\- yes, it would have changed everything. I would have run away with you here to Rome and never looked back had I known that night. You would have seen this place a lot sooner._ But he had thought it improper to bring any of it into words. Plus, the young man was obviously looking to move on from all that hotel baggage and probably asked because he needed the closure. And well, as his friend, Louis was obliged to keep his thoughts to himself. 

Dianna, already biting on a biscuit from the fresh basket on the bistro table while getting her presentation ready for business now, jogged him out of his nudiustertian thoughts and Louis looked down at the property entrance then through the open double doors to the indoors. Mr Payne had not arrived yet but there was also no sign of _Harry._ He was about to comment on this, when the figure of a man approached, and he froze.

In a satiny navy blue suit and thin tie, Mr Payne wore the most genuine smile to go with his humble stubble. Standing three and a half inches taller than Louis, he looked not a day older than the last time he had seen his face - via conference call three years ago to assure him the company was fine amid the Finch fears. They talked periodically on normal calls, but standing in the flesh now it was as though time had thrown Louis back a couple of decades for the umpteenth time.

"Louis! I can't believe it! You don't look a day older!" the man quipped as he extended both arms. Closing his eyes, Louis grasped the embrace, he smelled of Oud and wild flowers, tickling Louis’ nose and stirring his memories.

**~~**

_Tired from his last minute trip back to Italy, Louis yawned at the door of his old friend’s place. There was laughter and music inside and he hoped he could keep up with all of it. He had only arrived in the country a few hours prior but he did not come all the way back to Italy for just any old social call. He first met Liam a few years back at a seminar on the college campus, and they had been acquaintances ever since, with Liam frequently hearing his ideas for turning the Herculean Times into a culturally oriented cosmopolitan monthly magazine. Though initially Liam had no interest in business, only attending the seminars to keep up with his college grades, he had implied a change of heart over the phone, and Louis could not pass on the invitation from his wealthy friend._

_“Louis! Mio Amico!” Liam grabbed him up in a hug and set him down inside the apartment to scandalous laughter behind them. “Come! Come meet some of my friends.”_

_He couldn't wait to see Niall and Crystal again but the way this dinner party was going he feared he would only have time tonight to get some sleep and see those two fresh in the morning. After being introduced to Liam’s friends, most of which were college seniors younger than the twenty-five-year-old Liam, he pulled Louis aside to the kitchen counter._

_"I want to invest in your magazine plans,” the man said in a deeply serious and excited tone._

_Louis almost spurted his drink, instead he swallowed some in his oesophagus. He started coughing and Liam had to pound his back and get him a napkin._

_"You-you-do!?" Answered Louis hoarsely, dabbing the napkin on his lips._

_Liam turned to get Louis a glass of water from the tap. "Yes. So far I quite like the business plan and would love to see it come to fruition. Tell me again some of your plans."_

_Louis gulped the water and got right on it. "The magazine will of course keep the current LGBT theme but will also contain features about the many cultures around the world. I want to show the gay community who may be struggling with fitting in that the beauty and wonders in world belongs to us too. We don't have to conform and be forced to act like all there is is just disease and depression. We don't have to sit on edge like we're taking up space in someone else's world. It's ours too and I want to showcase that and emphasize that in the monthly. I plan to hire freelance photographers from each country featured and choose the best pictures for the pieces. Of course I want to base it in England."_

_Liam nodded incessantly as Louis spoke but looked slightly disappointed near the end. "I would have liked you to stay and make Italy your base but I believe in your dream, so I will be investing in it even if it’s from across the sea."_

_Louis nodded happily. “Italy was a whimsical ride, but it is time for me to settle myself back home. My mother and I are just reconnecting after so many years apart.”_

_"I have another friend from England as well. I'm sorry you didn't get to meet him tonight. He’s not too well and he will be leaving soon."_

_"It's not that bad. Maybe I’ll bump into him over there. What's his name?"_

_"Edward."_

_"Liam!" One of the younger man's friends called from the sofa. "Come on, Charades. This is your favorite game!"_

~~

As he released himself from the hug and Liam greeted Dianna, Louis noticed the sound of quickened footsteps approaching. He looked in the entryway to see Harry, his usual semi kempt comb-over and his bag. That funny bag that gave Louis the only clue to a 'college student Harry' flitting around campus with his prized books in one hand and his laptop in a sling over his shoulder. With a smile he gestured to Marietta, who then rolled out a Charleston tea cart with teeming-hot chamomile tea and sweet milk to go with the biscuits.

As he watched him in action his mind couldn’t help but run on what happened on the Ponte Sant’Angelo. He had dismissed it as a misreading- no pun intended,- a mere coincidence that she had looked at him and Harry so thoughtfully while saying that the readings were true. How would she even know Louis? She wasn’t even born yet when Louis had been read at eighteen. And what's more, she couldn’t possibly know new Harry or that Louis' twin soul's name was Harry. While they had been eating on the mausoleum roof he had tried to make sense of it- Dianna called Harry’s name when she pulled him to the booth, so okay she could have got it from there, but still, the reading was about Crystal not Harry or Louis, and this girl was no more than twenty for Pete’s sake. It was just a coincidence. The gypsy was wrong. Even if it were possible this new Harry _was_ Harry, it was twenty-six years too late. Surely destiny couldn’t be that cruel?

"You're late," Louis whispered, adjusting his tie in relief. And Harry calling him _Love_? What was that all about?

Harry swung his head in explanation, freshly shampooed hair flipping to the side resting just above his ear and sending Louis in a state of euphoria he might need to slap himself to get out of.

"I'm sorry, I had to check on Nailee,” he said quickly in Louis’ ear. “Her throat is sore. She wanted me to read to her."

He respectably turned to the magazine’s first investor. "Mr Payne, this is chief assistant editor, Mr Harry Styles. He is the one helping Dianna bring all of this to fruition." 

Harry then turned to greet their guest. “Mr Payne. It’s an honor to meet you.”

"My, you're a sight for sore eyes,” Liam replied, dreamy eyes fixed on Harry as they shook hands and sat. "You remind me of a friend I had years ago. Good chap. Unfortunately he died pretty young."

Harry gave Louis a look to ask if he was referring to Niall but Louis silently shook his head to relate it was someone different.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said, mindlessly massaging the back of his scalp.

"It's alright. I sure am glad to see at least one person from my old friends’ circle.” Liam smiled at Louis. “Life is so fleeting. You have to cherish people while they are here. For in the dark of a flickering blink, they can be gone.”

**~~**

_"I'm sorry you couldn't make it to my dinner party last night, Edward. And now you are leaving," Liam remarked._ _“You would have loved my friend I told you about. He had the most awe-inspiring business expansion idea. The corporate world is so biast, I’m so proud of myself for helping him and sparing him to have to deal with all the homophobic regection."_

_"Yes, I’m proud of you too, Liam. The flu had me so down. But I’m sure I will feel better as soon as I get home. It's been so long without seeing my parents."_

_"Oh, yes, I can't believe it's been six months already. It feels like just yesterday when you arrived here."_

_"Yeah, it has. I've learned so much about Italy in the teaching program that I can definitely go back and share the culture and language with the students back home now."_

_"They will benefit greatly from your knowledge. We, on the other hand, are sad to lose you."_

_"I'm going to miss you, Liam. Don't let this be goodbye. Let's promise to meet again soon. You can come visit me in England, I'll be happy to show you around!"_

_"That would be lovely, Edward. Ci vedremo presto, promesso."_

_"Let's seal it!" Edward chuckled as he stuck out his pinky._

_Liam grinned in agreement and stuck his out as well, linking it with his friend's. "Promessa."_

_"Promessa."_

_Blowing a kiss to Liam, Edward pulled his suitcase out the door and disappeared._

~~

"Would you like some tea, Mr Payne?" Dianna chirped to their guest. "The chamomile is quite appealing."

Liam glanced over the table with a less than zealous expression. "My dear you have to excuse me, I am not afraid of the strong stuff in morning hours I might say." He smiled broadly at Harry who simpered back.

"Oh, I do believe in a bit of the hair of the dog myself on occasion," Louis made a gesture to Marietta and she went rushing away. Harry squinted his eyes at him but he pretended not to see. What in the heckles was up with this young lad throwing judgement at an established man?

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, Liam,” Louis said to his friend of twenty-eight years. “I do hope this meeting isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you.”

"Don’t be daft, the business is good," Mr Payne replied as Marietta wheeled out a Baker's Rack stocked with champagne glasses and bottles of Merlot. "I must say, your daughter was very convincing on the phone,” he glanced at Dianna for a second before gawking at Harry again. That stare lasted an uncomfortably long minute, to Louis.

"I'm glad to see a fresh face at the company. So where are you from, Harry?"

"Holmes Chapel."

"Oh, quiet english boy. Quite charming. Much like Louis. I think if I remember correctly I was the only one he spoke to at the seminars- remember Louis?"

Louis laughed. "I think you made friends with everyone at those seminars, Liam. You were the charming one." Louis giggled with Liam, the two forgetting they had company, and Louis' eyes caught Harry for a second. The man was smiling but his jaw was mistakenly clenched and his eyes overdoing its attempt to look excited at the flirtatious conversation.

"Speaking of face," Dianna cut in gleefully, "We have our sights on Harry to be the spokesmodel for the new fashion magazine. We have quite a plan. All we need is your support on this."

Louis countered. "Actually no, Harry's quite skilled at his behind-the-scenes job. The face will have to be someone else-"

"Who else do you have in mind?"

Dianna opened her mouth but Louis cut in. "Uh, that is to be established. The spokesmodel will of course have to be relocated to Rome if the new branch succeeds. We are more focused on whether you are interested in backing this endeavor."

Liam downed his drink. “I'll tell you what, let's do it under one condition."

Louis and Dianna exchanged looks. Harry raked his hair back elegantly, catching Liam's smile as Marietta poured the man another glass of merlot.

"If this one stays in Rome and offers his editing skills to the new branch as well as his face to the campaign, then we have business."

Louis shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry but that won't be an option."

Dianna's head swung from one to the other in thought. "Mr. Payne is that the only stipulation?"

Liam nodded. "Mhm. He's beautiful. He can do pictures, campaigns, and public relations. I want to see him as the spokesperson."

Harry turned red. He was aware that Louis was tremendously angry.

"Liam-" Louis started, firmer. 

Seeing the simmering tension about to escalate, Dianna slapped her long-nailed hand down on his wrist and smiled at the visitor. "Mr Payne, we greatly consider your generosity and will get back to you very soon."

"I'm only here until tomorrow afternoon. I have a meeting in Qatar, so let me know before then."

Louis took a deep breath as Liam walked out the room, and Harry gave him a worried look.

“Well, that went south,” Louis said pensively.

"Daddy, we literally have a deal," Dianna urged.

"We can't just pimp out our employees for a deal, Dianna. I'd like to think the company I built from scratch still has values." 

Don't get Louis wrong, Liam was a good egg but his proposal that Harry be spokesmodel purely because of his looks was preposterous.

Both Dianna's eyebrows went up. He knew she was pissed at him but whatever, he was right.

"Maybe he was kidding," Harry said all of a sudden. "Maybe you should try the meeting again without me in the room."

Louis stared at him, his eyes were filled with something that reminded him of the times he'd come home sad about not meeting Harry and Niall would dig through the depths of his own misgivings to give him a pep talk he himself did not even believe in just so Louis would cheer up and be hopeful again. 

_Damn right I'm not gonna let Liam near you again,_ he thought heatedly.

*

“Everyone, this is Dustin Becks. Dustin, this is my clan.” Crystal presented her date at family dinner that night. Louis was only informed of this new dinner invitee hours prior and was looking forward to meeting this _Dustin_.

There was an uproar of laughter at the table. “ _Clan,_ ” Dianna mocked, looking around at the others.

“Yeah we are the _Tomlinson clan_ ,” Freddie joked in a fake Scottish accent.

Nick chortled. “ _IColorture_ ,” he corrected an amused Dustin who held the chair out for Crystal before taking a seat between her and Harry. “ _IColorture_ clan.”

Harry covered his giggle and exchanged gleeful eyes with Louis who shook his head at the table.

“You all are embarrassing,” Louis said with a straight face. Nailee chuckled at that.

As the table died down Louis took the moment to scrutinize Dustin; Wide-set eyes, oversized ears, his overly tidy suit with a tiny breast pocket tucked with an orange paisley kerchief, he came off as peculiar to Louis.

He noticed the man’s hand subtly brushing Crystal's keen wrist. He was not Crystal's soulmate if his name was Dustin. Louis quickly admonished the thought. Who was he to judge? Look how his dabble with fate turned out. Louis rued every minute he had spent wasting his time waiting for a faceless man and believing in that stupid myth. If Crystal was fine with Dustin _,_ then he vowed not to stand in her way. ...Yet there was something about the man that nettled him.

Just as he was thinking it, Dianna piped; “Well, I think we are all surprised you met someone so quickly. Would have been even more surprised if his name was Gregory.”

Dustin’s face went ghostly white. Louis grew curious as to the reason. Taking a sip of wine, he looked around at the others. No one else noticed it. Louis reckoned it was probably embarrassment on hearing some other guy’s name. 

“So Dustin...what do you do for a living?” Louis asked as Marietta brought out the wine.

“I’m a- weatherman,” Dustin bowed his head in his plate. “It’s a small local channel, nothing to talk about,” he added when Louis gave an acknowledging nod.

Crystal, sensitive to Dustin's discomfort, changed the subject. “So what’s the next move for the new fashion branch?”

Dianna answered. "If the issue is successful we'll have to set up new staff here in Rome and since Liam likes Harry he can head it with me."

A flash of curious concern covered Dustin's face. Louis caught it but Freddie took his attention just then.

“Great, so while he’s doing all the hard work I can be the face,” Freddie looked pleadingly to Louis.

Dianna shook her head vehemently. "Liam was clear he wanted Harry fronting this. I don't think we should go against the Roman business partner right now."

Louis quickly put in, “Uh uh. You did not hire Harry to have his face all over the tabloids, Dianna. Being in the spotlight like that can be damaging to a person. And look at the Finch thing on top of that. This magazine doesn’t need the attention right now."

“I should be the face,” Freddie argued.

“No,” Louis grumbled at Freddie. 

“No,” he also said timely to Dianna after he caught her mouth again..

“Well, whoever the face is,” Harry spoke up, “I think we should give Dianna a chance to showcase her ideas. As Crystal said, we’re already out here, we already spoke to Mr Payne and he's on board. If I may, I have a sugges-”

Louis cut across, looking around the table. "I don’t see this happening in time. September is the January of fashion, and we are already in September.”

“That’s why I want to do this as soon as possible,” Dianna stressed. Louis snickered and he and Dianna broke out into argument.

“Will you all please let Harry finish!” Crystal dropped her cutlery, shoulders straight. 

Everyone paused. Even Dustin stopped eating.

Louis shut his mouth and peered at Harry with exaggerated eyes, but the younger man was looking at Crystal as he spoke.

“Thank you Crystal- I was going to say I have a suggestion for how we can move forward even if we are already in season. I think it will be beneficial if we can hold a gala of sorts highlighting all we want to provide with the new fashion issue.”

“I like that," Crystal shifted to get more engaged. "We can print out some copies of the magazine and share them out at the event, get as many Roman contacts in the business as we can to attend.”

Louis gave a grand eye-roll. “Yeah but we’re talking about a _Gala_ , and the spokesperson job still needs to be filled. Plus, I’m not so sure I like the fashionista idea. Too nugatory.”

Sighing heavily, Dianna then said quietly that if it made him feel better she will make the fashion issue culturally themed. “We could make it about, say... Gypsy clothing.”

“I can help with that,” Dustin jumped in. “There is a huge Italian fashion house here that caters to just that- gypsy fashion- called _Romani Woman_ ,” he said. “The pieces, though devastatingly expensive, have a certain éclat and poise. I’m friends with the owner after we met at a fashion show.”

“Weatherman in a fashion show?” Louis mumbled, taking his wineglass to his mouth.

“A job in the media gets you a lot of connections,” Dustin replied defensively. “But of course, you should know.”

Crystal shot Louis a hard look and she and Dianna thanked Dustin for the input. Dianna then looked to Louis for the green light. 

Louis turned to Harry for some kind of silent reassurance. Eyes gleaming in the muted glow of the wrought-iron chandeliers, Harry nodded as subtly as he could.

Louis finally said yes but told Dianna to look for an actual model to hire as the spokesmodel, not the company workers. "Harry is not a model."

"So does that mean we need a female now to be the spokesmodel?" Crystal voiced. "I mean this fashion house is called Romani _Woman."_

Harry then said, "I don't mind working with a designer catering to women's clothing. I am genderfluid." 

Louis' heart beat a trifle faster. 

Freddie gave a _who cares_ face, and Dianna planted her eyes on Harry. "Harry, did you just come out to us?"

"Uh- yeah, I guess so," Harry shrugged, chin propped on his knuckles.

Everyone congratulated Harry. Louis wanted to inform them that yes Harry was genderfluid, and he was intelligent, brave and sensually shrewd. Fiery and fun… But he kept in his place, nodding and smiling along silently.

Dianna drowned half of her wine while she took Harry’s statement into account. "I think it is a good idea. Harry is perfect for this. He’ll have a lot to share."

Crystal and Nick nodded and hummed agreement.

Dustin picked up the bottle and topped up Dianna's wine. She grinned at him then cocked an eyebrow around the table. “He is no Gregory aye, but at least he is a gentleman.”

Dustin stiffened. “I’m sorry- who is this Gregory?” he asked, resting the bottle down with a slight frown at Crystal, who shook her head loftily.

Dianna spoke. “Oh, just a friend of ours.”

" _A_ _gypsy_ ," Freddie said in the same Scottish voice, now a tad subdued.

Louis pursed his lips, hearing that word for the second time at dinner.

“Oh for god's sakes,” Crystal said, looking at the others then addressing Dustin. “It’s a stupid thing really. Just before we met we were at the mausoleum, and you know there's this woman on the bridge who gives fortunes. Well, my obnoxious sister here humored me into finding out the name of my supposed soulmate.”

“ _Gregeory,_ ” Freddie cut in, giving a girly voice mocking Crystal’s.

Nick laughed. Louis caught Harry sending a little annoyed glare in Freddie's direction. It caused Louis to let out a snort, which everyone caught.

“Uncle Louis?” Crystal complained. She then threw a pea at him. “I thought you'd at least have my back here!”

“I'm sorry,'' he said, balling his fist to cover his laugh, trying not to look at Harry who was now quizzically eyeing him.

Dustin was nodding the whole time, slowly following the trail of conversation.

“So Gregory is...?” he asked, face riddled in confusion.

Dianna explained, “The name the gypsy said the name of her soulmate would be."

“Oh,” Dustin said, his pale pallor no different from before.

“Yeah, only Daddy thought it could be something else. Twin mate or something,” Dianna said again.

"Twin soul," assisted Harry, looking up from his phone. Louis' head almost snapped looking his way. "I looked it up." Harry explained when their eyes met.

"Wait Dad, what is a _twin soul?"_ asked Freddie.

Blood temperature rising, Louis carefully placed his glass down. "That's when someone's soul is woven from the same fabric as another person. You're not related in the flesh but in a spiritual way. You have startling similarities and you sort of balance each other out."

"Like a doppelganger?" Nick asked, intrigued.

"Yeah something like that but doppelgangers are more like just a shocking resemblance and can be related I think. It's super rare to find your twin soul. Most people never do."

"So why did you, like, think maybe Crystal could have found hers?" Freddie said, strangely interested in the topic. Louis wished he was his absent-minded, self absorbed self tonight like all the other nights at dinner.

Louis glanced at Crystal. She looked at him with encouraging eyes, her hand cruising through her hair like Niall used to do. "I guess it was curiosity. Twin souls are supposed to be bigger than soulmates." He really didn't mean it in a shady way but the look on Dustin’s face harbored hints of darkness now that reminded him of when he dumped Niall on the Ponte Sant’Angelo, a look like he knew he was backhandedly being told he wasn’t good enough.

"I didn't know you had this spiritual side, Daddy," Dianna said. "When GrandMama took us to church you'd stand outside and loosen your tie like you were scared you'd catch a fire." 

Harry gave a mock hurt look reminiscent of Niall who had been Catholic as well. Why does every fucking thing someone does or says remind him of Niall? Well Harry can go to hell with that hurt look because Louis’ life was already a church of burned romances, with no reason for him to pray.

"That's because I don't believe in church and angels," -He hit Harry with an austere gaze as the man’s eyes rolled toward him- “and all that. Look, there is no such thing as divine soulmates and... that sort-" he did not want to say twin souls- "I believe love is what you make it. You choose your own soulmate,” he added hoping Dustin accepted it as an olive branch. “It's not all meted out in the stars.” And he meant it. Every word. If only he had known these things when he was eighteen...

"It's funny, I read angels have twin souls too," Harry said with a distinct vitriol in tone, resting his phone on the table pointedly. “But I agree with Louis,” he said livelier. “I think we can learn to make our own destiny.” 

He was looking at the couple but Louis was looking at him- or his hair- as his arm was now casually propping up his chin in their direction and all that was visible to Louis was the side of his head. The Tomlinson in Louis wanted to scream 'No elbows on the table!' but the side of him that had known Harry this past few weeks lived for the informality for once in his life.

“So you’re not into superstition or mystical beliefs?" Louis asked him, trying to sound casual but genuinely needing to know why he suddenly changed his stance on the topic.

Harry glanced at him and shook his head, making his arm move too, and said simply with a cringed furrowed eyebrow, “Not a whole lot really. Just the holy angels and St Christopher.” He pulled out a pendant from the chain he had around his neck. “Patron saint of travelers. My mother got it for me when I told her I was going to Rome. So far it’s working.”

Louis should have been elated about that. So jovial Harry didn't care for soul bonds. But for some unknown reason the remark settled in his rib cage like hooked gas.

*

Over après-dinner wine, the dinner party scattered about the living room to listen to Harry play; Nick looming over him, making smack noises as he drank from his glass. He was leaning on the piano, his arse in a precariously blunt view to the others, Louis had a good mind to shove him off from it.

Dustin was slumped down close to Crystal like a Labrador, knock-kneed with his trousers skinned pointed up at the hem to reveal his neon socks. Something about him still grated on Louis' back, but the man’s affection for Crystal was not lost on him. From his armchair he watched as the man carefully removed a ticklish lock of hair while her head was rested on his shoulder. 

Louis tried to relax, taking in the music and thinking about the first time he came to Rome, thinking about Liam, and Niall, and everything that led up to this moment where he was a middle-aged man skulking in the dark without a person to call his partner. He had partners; Liam and James were great business partners, Niall had been amazing and though he died he left Louis with an equally amazing gift of a daughter. But Louis had wanted a life partner. Someone he could crawl in next to and sleep against their heartbeat and feel their breath whoosh his hair.

So Harry put two coins in for tradition's sake, not because he was dependent on mystical, divine love intervention. He couldn’t just make a wish and expect to get love right up on a platter. He laughed; he remembered the stupid wishlist he had for what Old Harry would be like. Niall told him he couldn't just preorder a soulmate like pizza with extra toppings. That they were going to have faults like any other human being. That nobody was perfect embodiment of all the things you dream them up to be. That his soulmate is a living breathing person already out there in the world making mistakes and being human.

“Granddad sing us a song!” Nailee shouted. “Maybe it will cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up? I don’t need cheering up.”

“You’ve been super cranky lately. I know singing always made you happy.” 

Harry grinned and gestured for Louis to come sit next to him, and Louis was caught between flight or fight. 

“I love your singing Uncle Louis,” Crystal sat up straight to say. Louis looked around and saw how deprived they had all been not to hear him sing in a while- three years to be exact.

He slowly rose and found himself at Harry’s side, the side where Nick was. He hoped he would slither off, but Nick stayed and was now looming over them both now.

“Okay, I loved that Billy Joel you sang last time but there’s this one I like...” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear and the younger man laughed and nodded and started to play the tune.

Louis took a sip of wine, resting the glass on the hood, and cleared his throat.

_“Slow down, you crazy child_

_You're so ambitious for a juvenile_

_But then if you're so smart, then tell me_

_Why are you still so afraid?_

_Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?_

_You'd better cool it off before you burn it out_

_You've got so much to do_

_And only so many hours in a day_

_But you know that when the truth is told_

_That you can get what you want or you get old_

_You're gonna kick off before you even_

_get halfway through’_

As he sang and Harry played he reveled in the coincidence that Harry sang and played the piano, sharing things in common with the soulmate Louis thought he was waiting for all those years ago.

_Slow down, you're doing fine_

_You can't be everything you want to be_

_Before your time_

_Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight_

_Tonight,_

_Too bad but it's the life you lead_

_You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need_

_Though you can see when you're wrong, you know_

_You can't always see when you're right. you're right_

_You've got your passion, you've got your pride_

_But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?_

_Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true_

_When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?_

Louis reckoned he could spend everyday enjoying the evenings singing and playing on the piano with Harry. Harry who likes marigolds and plays the piano. As the last strings played Louis looked at Harry as he tilted his head and punched the piano keys with an ingenuous smile that showed his perfect teeth, and it hit him. This was definitely not the Harry the fortuneteller promised him. This was his _wishlist._ This Harry sitting next to him was the Harry he conjured up in his head in his twenties. His pizza with extra toppings. The person Niall told him he was an idiot to think he would ever get.

He stared wide-eyed at the oblivious young man. Aside from the other attributes he was perfectly chiseled and fit just like Louis imagined...

Louis looked away at the piano keys to think- Harry was so cute and sweet and he’d definitely been dressing to impress since his first day at the company. A little _straight from the shoulder_ but he did have manners. Of all the rare things to happen...Louis became stunned at what he just realized. But how-? Just how!? Dismissing the thought as crazy, he shook it off as just one of the sick games the gods seemed to find a twisted pleasure in playing with his life.

“You want to do another one?” Harry begged.

“It was lovely but I'm quite tired now,” Louis declined, suddenly not having fun anymore. His stare lingered on the man. He then shot up and crept back to the armchair.

“Play another one,” Nailee said, before drifting off to sleep on the other side of her mother. She was supposed to be in bed already but her fever had miraculously subsided and she seemed to be too intrigued with this new Dustin fellow to turn in.

Dianna, who sat in the nepeta green chair just opposite Louis looking like she too had been sulking, finally called it a night and got up to leave, and Freddie had disappeared somewhere. Come to think of it Louis hadn't seen him since they all left the dining room. 

Getting up to kiss Dianna goodnight- her peck on his cheek was rather perfunctory- he felt the tire lour over him, and he stretched. He walked out from under the chandelier and propped himself up in the doorway to the backyard. The curtains were pulled back and the decreasing temperature was needed to wake him up.

Harry didn't seem to notice the dwindling crowd, the sound of his piano growing louder but sombre. 

_“When I think of those East End lights,_

_Muggy nights...”_

Louis' mind then went to Eleanor. He had thrown himself into work for so many years that he thought he had forgotten what it felt like to be truly in a relationship. He thought jerking himself off to videos was thrilling and sufficient enough. But when Eleanor had finally asked for a divorce the minute Freddie turned eighteen three years ago, Louis had seen a look in her eyes that said she was not about to waste another second of her life in a loveless marriage if she didn’t have to. 

At first it had felt like betrayal. Louis had been married to her for twenty-three years, and all the while she had been sneaking around with Sebastian here and there, so why was she acting like she was held against her will or kept away from her lover and needed so badly to get out? If anything, Louis was the one who lived with zero affection, no one to touch him at night and kiss him at inappropriate times during mundane conversations. But when it had sunk in, Louis realized that it was the perfect opportunity to take his life back too. So, that- and the fact that he got paranoid about his then newly diagnosed arthritis- was how he had ended up at the Lamure. 

But after the whole Finch fiasco, something died in him once more. He had lost courage, and without knowing it he had fallen back into the same routine of work, restaurant, sleep, work...and it wasn’t until Harry came back into his life that his thoughts grew scrambled and Harry-oriented... just like they had been many years ago for Old Harry. But this was different. This Harry was real and had feelings, and a voice, and a smile he could place. Something about him being in Louis’ life made him feel again. Want again. It only made sense that he would coincidentally be everything Louis once wished for in a dream partner.

_“And it's one more beer_

_And I don't hear you anymore..._

_And someone saved my life tonight, sugar bear.”_

As he stood in the arched entrance to the gardens he noticed the song the young man played was a sad, eerie song. Harry's singing vacuumed all his attention. He played in a soulful meditation, slow acoustics in the room, sending even Crystal into a deep sleep next to her sleeping daughter. 

_“You almost had your hooks in me didn't you dear_

_You nearly had me roped and tied_

_Altar-bound, hypnotized_

_Sweet freedom whispered in my ear_

_You're a butterfly_

_And butterflies are free to fly_

_Fly away, high away bye bye,_

_I never realized the passing hours_

_Of evening showers_

_A slip noose hanging in my darkest dreams_

_I'm strangled by your haunted social scene_

_Just a pawn out-played by a dominating queen_

_And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear,”_

As Louis listened, a strong sense of sadness kicked in. It was like a string pulling loose and busting old wounds after years of merely being held together rather than having healed, thinking of Old Harry and how he was supposed to play the piano, and how he thought he had found _the one_ playing the saxophone, and how angry he got after Old Harry disappointed him and how trapped he felt loving a ghost of a person who never dared to show himself let alone give Louis the love he wanted.

He remembered throwing flowers in the Tiber for Niall and saying goodbye after he died, with Crystal by his side just before he took her to England. He remembered whispering a goodbye to not only Niall but Harry too as the flowers floated downstream. As he thought back, he assessed that it was him saving himself from a lifetime of waiting for Harry in vain. That he had saved himself from Old twin soul Harry’s _hooks_ just like in the song.

_“And I would have walked head on into the deep end the river_

_Clinging to your stocks and bonds_

_Paying your H.P. demands forever_

_They're coming in the morning with a truck to take me home..._

_So save your strength and run the field you play alone_

_And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear..._

_Sweet freedom whispered in my ear_

_You're a butterfly_

_And butterflies are free to fly...”_

As he heard the crack in his voice at the finishing up of the song, he wondered who New ‘wishlist’ Harry, _real_ Harry, felt trapped with. Louis hoped to heaven it was not him. God knows Harry would have a good reason if he still felt resentment toward him concerning that weekend. That amazing weekend that Louis can still hardly believe was real. It felt like a lifetime ago, like some event that happened so far back in time it would be a folktale by now. If for some reason it _was_ him, Louis thought, he would try to be a better friend and set New Harry free. But for that to happen he would have to first be honest with him.

Harry shuffled away from the piano, and Louis’ vision turned to Crystal and Nailee both now asleep on the sofa. They looked so peaceful sleeping there as this Dustin guy stroked Crystal’s hair. The man whispered something in her ear and she shifted awake. 

As Crystal scooped Nailee up to take the child to her room, Louis made the offer to walk _Dustin_ to his car.

*

The late night air nipped their skin as the two men walked past the lawn and into the driveway, the crickets zeeting in the night. 

“I can tell Nailee is very fond of you, Mr Becks,” Louis said as they neared the vehicle.

Dustin breathed a smile, his hands in his trouser pocket as he sauntered alongside Louis. They stopped at his car, a golden glazed Honda civic- _phh!_

Louis said nothing as they stood at the drivers’ door, his eyes running over the man’s jacket and slightly crooked tie. He lifted his hand and fixed it and gave a little tuck of the tiny orange kerchief. Dustin mildly jumped at the surprise but quickly steadied himself. Good, Louis thought, courageous fellow. Ronan would have already run away by now. Louis then put his fingers to dust off the invisible lint on the man’s shoulders.

"Those people in that room,” he said in a low voice, now smoothing down the man’s already sleek lapel, “all of them... I would do anything, stop at nothing for their protection.” 

Dustin gulped. Louis could tell he was holding in a mighty breath. He smiled at himself. If his name was Dustin then he was not Crystal’s soulmate. No matter what Louis said at dinner, Dustin could never give her the kind of love Louis’ father gave his mother. He would never be the perfect fit. But who was to say this Dustin would not step up and be a good husband and father. He certainly cared for Crystal, the way his eyes warmly ogled her as she softly slept on his shoulder. But even so, Louis had a duty to fulfil, on behalf of both him and Niall.

“If I find you are up to some folly, I will not fail to erase your existence, do you understand?”

Dustin’s nod was all over the place with nerves. He quickly shifted away and bolted into his car.

Louis stood, stifling a laugh as he watched the car speedily exit the compound.

As he began to trod across the lawn toward the terrace, Louis caught another light coming from the main gates. He was already suspicious but then he heard the faint zoom of a motorcycle gradually getting louder as it got closer, though no speed was upped. In fact, it was going slower as it neared and stopped close to the garage.

Someone dismounted the bike. Louis shielded his eyes from the glare and saw the person pull a helmet off his head and was about to place it back on what had to be Louis’ Harley Davidson.

 _“Freddie,”_ he yelled in a stern voice, marching back into the driveway. The look on the boy’s face was epileptic. He began to fire excuses like a machine gun, stuttering and fumbling to replace the helmet on the thing.

Louis had his own questions to ask. “What in the devil’s drum are you thinking? What if you got arrested? Do you know what hour it is?”

Freddie hid his hands in the leather-and-wool pockets of his varsity jacket, shrugged and poured on the best next-to-remorseful look he was able to conjure up. 

Louis sighed heavily. He was grateful the runt got back in one piece. As a boy, Freddie had always been hermetically immune to Louis’ admonishing, spoiled by his mother. He wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box either, but since the divorce he seemed to get that Louis was the parent who cared about his future, and so he stuck around for college instead of going off and living on his own like Louis did at eighteen.

“Get inside. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

Louis pretend-hit him in the bum with the helmet and watched him creep inside the consuming building. As the boy disappeared he heard a sound to his right. Like a snort.

Turning and squinting his eyes upward in the dark, he let out a gasp. “ _Harry_.”

Louis was nearly unable to descry him there on the patio with a giant smirk bringing out his dimples in full force. Louis had to grin back. 

“Teenagers, huh? And to think he isn’t the last. Still have Nailee’s heightened tantrums to look forward to.”

“I’d choose her tantrums over Freddie’s any day,” was the younger man’s reply, his interest in the Freddie topic waning. Laughing it off, Louis wondered how he was supposed to get the bike back in the garage in his work suit. He should have made Freddie do it.

“She’s a beauty,” Harry said in a soft but joking tone seeming to notice how Louis was lost in his thoughts while staring at the bike.

Louis replied, “He is." 

“Oh it’s a _he,_ ” Harry pushed out his bottom lip.

“Yep.”

Bringing his gaze down to the helmet in his hands, Louis wondered. He decided against it. It was an uncouth idea, should stay in his head. But then he had to. “Do you wanna...go for...a spin?” He tilted his head up and asked hesitantly, tapping on the helmet.

Harry’s eyes widened. “At this hour?”

“I know every shortcut in this city. I can have you back by...roughly... two am?” His mouth curled at the self realization that he was being a bad example to Freddie. But fuck that, he couldn’t help it if the bike fell into his hands at the very same time Harry wandered out onto the patio.

Letting out a chuckle, Harry finally nodded. “Okay.”

Louis gestured a hand for him to come down from the balcony and nodded when Harry quickly told him to wait right there and disappeared inside the house.

As he waited, panic began to suck at his neck bones. He had no idea what had gotten into him but it seemed...the right moment? Somehow? He realized he had become a little over protective of the younger man, who was growing more concomitant lately- case in point, he just jumped at the offer for a rusty driver to take him god knows where on an old motorcycle. And if that was not enough he was spending too much time comparing Harry to his distant past. So he would take him for a spin and talk. He would not tell him about twin soul Harry and the fortune teller, or the wishlist and all that complicated hullabaloo. Louis didn’t want Harry to find him cuckoo. He’d simply tell him that his feelings were deeper than friendship and it broke him that he did not keep his word about the movie date but that Harry had to forget about the hotel completely and move on, really move on and stop dwelling and sulking about it because he had a great life with a great job that Louis wanted him to enjoy, and he shouldn’t be mad at Louis anymore because they were supposed to be friends now, like they promised. He would set this new _normal_ Harry free. 

Louis mounted and inspected the bike’s condition. Gas: check, functioning tail lights: check. Freddie must have been maintaining it while sneaking it out for his personal mischief.

Harry’s silhouette emerged on the ground floor entrance, and Louis attached his helmet. He grabbed the other helmet on the machine and fastened it on Harry, who had come running with a jacket on like a child chasing an ice cream truck. Louis then let him slide on behind him and hold his waist tight. And off they went straight out of the big compound double gates and out into the Roman streets once more under the cover of night.

The wind flapping through their hair and the sound of nothing but the bike engine at their bosoms, they sucked up earth one block at a time. When they reached cobbled areas Louis slowed down and made shortcuts. He had not done this in years but he knew these streets like he knew himself, they were one and the same, even after all these years. He could close his eyes and still arrive where he wanted to go.

“Where are we going?” Harry’s voice clouded through the wind in his ear.

He shouted back, “You’ll see.”

*

**Louis pov**

They arrived at a long beach strip with rocks on one end. As the bike juddered to a stop, Louis gestured his head to the water and they went toward the sand on foot. They found a spot on a log on the far end, closest to a streetlight at a resort a short distance away that gave some light as Harry was afraid of crawling creatures that might be lurking around the rotted wood. Louis took his coat off and placed it on the log for him to sit. Harry shook his head and asked him if he was crazy, something might crawl into it. Louis joked that he didn’t want his bike getting dirty from Harry’s arse.

“Ha, ha,” Harry mock-laughed. 

“This is astonishing,” he said through the soughing wind, as they settled on the log. “This is the beach you told me about.”

“Yep.” Louis let his hand hang between his knees as he sat. “You remembered. **”**

“How can I forget?” Harry grew quiet, digging his toes in the sand, picking up a pebble and throwing it yonder the sea. 

Louis grinned at his playfulness. “Ostia beach. Niall and I used to come out here a lot,” he said, growing thoughtful. "Thirty-five minutes out. Twenty-five if you cut the traffic."

Harry looked out at the deep water.

“Do you wanna get your feet wet?” asked Louis, his hands in his pockets, his legs wide apart, digging into the sand. He bet he looked cool in the stance with his hair flying into his eyes with the breeze. Harry sure was looking at him of the sort. He marvelled how at times when the man’s stare locked him he’d miraculously feel young and cool. If Louis brought up the topic of his fifty-four years where he sat Harry would say that’s not so old, but even so there was no arguing it was on the decline. Louis couldn’t ignore that even if Harry had been his twin soul or his wish-come-true or whatever, Louis still could not indulge in anything romantic with the twenty-six year old.

“Hell no.”

“Come on. You don’t come all the way out to a beach and not wet your feet.”

“Maybe some other time. I don’t want to get sloppy sand on your bike.”

“Are you sure?”

Harry nodded. 

Louis suddenly grimaced.

“Don’t get mad at me, it’s windy out here. I don’t want to get wet and cold.” 

Harry had spoken but Louis didn’t respond. Instead he turned to face front and clutched his right wrist, eyes on the dark watery horizon. He tried to let his mind drift to something happy to distract the pain, and from the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry notice him wringing it.

“Is everything okay?”

The question lunged the man back into the scene. “Oh, yeah. It’s my joints. I have arthritis. Didn’t think it would bother me tonight. Must be the sea breeze.”

Louis was this close to throwing a stone at the gods for the painful reminder of what he already knew, when Harry reached out and took his hand without so much as a flinch. He squeezed and massaged it with both hands, the warmth pulsing through. Louis’ shoulders fell into an instant ease. Louis had been so obdurate the past few weeks he was half surprised Harry would feel this comfortable to make a gesture like this but he remembered he had been the first to take Harry’s hand in Castel Sant’Angelo. That had not been sentimental, per say, but it may have laid the groundwork for what was happening now.

“Something tells me you already knew that,” he said slowly.

Harry stalled for words, coloring. “I- may have heard chatter about the office. But if it helps I changed the subject around to work.” He smiled and Louis saw daylight in the dark windy beach under the tiny stars.

“Well, you know what they say,” Louis said, trying to be wistfully unembarrassed. “ _The soul is born old and grows young, that is life’s comedy. And -”_

 _“And the body is born young and grows old, that is life’s greatest tragedy,_ ” Harry finished. “Oscar Wilde."

Louis pointedly pulled his upper body away from Harry, impressed. "Somebody knows their literature.” 

They both smiled. “You know I do,” Harry giggled.

Louis watched as Harry let his other hand fall to his side while his thumb continued rubbing the back of his hand.

The younger man then parted his lips thoughtfully. “What if that quote was literally someone's life? What if someone were to have an older soul but their younger body prohibits others from seeing it and taking them seriously?”

Louis looked at him, wondering where this was going. 

“You don’t want me to be a spokesmodel because you think I’m not capable?” Harry explained, reading Louis’ bemused body language..

“Not true. You being the spokesmodel means you might have to stay on in Rome indefinitely according to how successful the new branch is. I’m not so sure I want you so far from the headquarters.”

“Aw, I’d miss you too, Boss,” Harry joked.

Louis chortled before getting serious. “I just think Dianna is making all this so complicated. She's already split the company in half. The magazine is simple and I like it that way. She’s just like her mother, always changing things.”

“Did you love her? -Eleanor.”

“I loved her enough,” Louis said of his ex-wife. “Though she wasn’t much of a lovable person.”

“I’d imagine since she lied to you about Freddie...”

Louis gave him a warning look. It was dark out here but God his eyes were so big. And so caring as they looked back at Louis reflectively in the distant dim shades of the streetlight. Louis was unable to do anything but stare at them.

“You can tell me,” Harry prodded. “Friends, remember?”

Louis sighed knowing he was not about to leave the topic alone anytime soon.

“She drugged me. We went to this business function and had too much fun, and she pretended to be just as drunk as me and when we got home I passed out. The next morning, she was naked in my bed and she said we had sex. After we found out she was pregnant I thought it was a new start for us. A chance to finally get along. When Freddie was born and Sebastian showed up at the hospital my heart sunk. That time she and Sebastian were on the outs and she said she wanted me to raise Freddie. I knew she just needed to stay in my parents’ mansion to keep in her social class, and I loved our little family way too much to say no. They were all the family I had so I took care of them all.”

“That’s the bravest, most charismatic thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t see myself being that selfless." Harry took his hand in both palms. "You have a wonderful life and a beautiful family and you did all that while building a company. You should be proud.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I was running from myself.” Louis lowered his head.

“Sometimes bravery looks a lot like running away.”

Louis smiled grimly. “Perhaps.”

“So you must have been glad to get out of that marriage, huh?” Harry delved.

“I mean, not totally,” Louis blushed, laughing. “I wouldn’t have gotten married unless I thought it was important to my mum. I mean, I skipped out on my engagement to my first girlfriend.”

“You were engaged to another girl before? Boy, you were really adventurous.” Harry laughed high pitched. It caused Louis to chuckle too.

“Danielle was really sweet but... It was part of what propelled me to Rome...to Niall.” Louis grew silent now, the memory of Niall burying sharp in his chest. He decided he should say what he had planned to. Not knowing where to start, he cleared his throat and began with: “I liked singing with you tonight. I really liked the way you sing, especially that one you did the other night; _I haven’t felt that for the longest time,_ ” he gave a little singing of the song. “And about that last song you played tonight- the sad one...”

“It’s not a sad song. it’s a happy one.” Harry’s eyes were half-lidded, dreamy. Louis could not read them.

“You didn’t seem happy when you were singing it?”

The younger man looked away with slight despondence, and Louis grew worried. Feeling his giant fingers slip away from his smaller glitching ones, Louis re-enforced the firmness of his hold, meeting his eyes with a silent question of _Are you okay?_

Harry smiled faintly and let his hand fall back at ease into the grip. Breathing out relief, Louis followed his gaze out into the dark waters. He felt painted with a sudden guilt for upsetting him somehow. 

“I just don’t want you to resent me for what happened three years ago.”

Harry turned to him. “I could never resent you. Not after knowing your reasons. I respect you so much for them.” 

And there that word was again. Respect. Louis figured he should get right on to saying what he wanted to say out of respect for himself, Harry, and their blooming friendship. 

Harry’s hand somehow settled deep in the grooves of Louis’ fingers. He looked like he was about to say something himself. Something on his mind that had been trapped in there a while. The wrinkles on his forehead showed the struggle he was having shaping his thoughts into words. So Louis waited sensing Harry’s speech was more urgent.

"The _Herculean Times_ ," Harry said finally, almost like he had picked it out of a thousand versions of what he wanted to say, "I think you'd do great if you bring it back. That journal meant so much to so many.”

That damn journal again, Louis thought. Everything always comes back to that damn journal, always creeping its way into conversations like an old troll that just can’t stay under the freaking bridge.

"The journal didn't just inspire me to be an editor, it saved my life," Harry raked some hair back from the wind. "I came out when I was fourteen, to my parents and then to everyone else. Kids at school were awful. They'd throw my backpack in the gutters…, and this teacher would indirect me in class. It was…" Harry gave a long pause, looking out into the ocean. "I thought about throwing myself in front of a train," he said, bringing his gaze back to Louis. "I thought that would be the quickest way to go. Just _-wham_."

Louis held his breath and waited for the rest but Harry went quiet after that, almost closed up. Feeling the now stiffened hand in his, Louis figured Harry regretted saying anything at all. He squeezed it hoping to communicate support and encouragement.

After a few waves crashed Harry spoke again. "There was this article from the _Herculean Times_ about teens going through discrimination. It led me to a youth support group that eventually became like my family. I wore the purple every year on Spirit Day and I took part in the activities. It changed a lot for me. I never told anyone that."

"That's," Louis paused. The things Harry said about being suicidal because of bullying had been said to Louis many times by people who read the _Herculean Times,_ by people Louis and Niall met in bars and protests who the magazine helped. The world had made strides since the eighties but the stigma, the persecution was still very much alive. That Harry got the strength to pull through and make a good life for himself was simply; "Beautiful. And here you are now coming out to everyone and you're happy and in a good place in your life. You should be proud," Louis smiled then saw the glint of extra light coming from his eyes that told him he was crying. 

"Harry, if you ever feel like that again, please promise me you'll come to me. For anything. I'll listen. I'll help."

"The publication was old," Harry said in light sobs. "Probably older than me if I can remember, and I still benefited. Imagine if you can do that again for countless others."

And all Louis could manage was a few nods, lowering his head. Harry looked at him graciously and gave a slight smile letting the mellow sounds of the crashing sea take over.

Something began to stir in their hand contact, something inexplicable that gave Louis the urge to lift it and kiss his hand. It took him a great deal to restrain himself from this.

A few beats later Harry looked Louis' way again and then looked down and up at him once more. There it was again, that look, like he had something to say. But this time he shelved it. 

Louis wanted to ask but then Harry caught eyes with him again, his hand beginning to move tangled in Louis. Their eyes locked, and neither of them seemed to be able to look away. The vibes began to travel from Louis' palm to his forearms and from the way Harry's eyebrows twitched an inkling closer and his eyes flickered to Louis’ lips Louis knew he was feeling it too. He was suddenly hit with the internal knowledge that he had found him. He had finally found his twin soul. He didn't need a fortune teller nor any book to confirm it. He _put his head on a block,_ sure. Only it was impossible. This Harry was not even born yet when the fortune teller gave the prophecy and told Louis she felt _Harry's_ presence. Yet the feelings he had now were very real. The emotions came rampaging out. But Louis had other moments with this Harry, some of them probing visual caresses that indeed overwhelmed him, but not like this. This felt like the prophecy being fulfilled in full force. But why when the universe knew this was not his twin soul? 

He took a moment to sink inside himself and figure this whole thing out- He currently felt everything he was told he would feel by Madam Ruhina. But no, he was doing it again. He was forcing attributes on this poor unsuspecting young man just like he had forced the coincidental wishlist on him earlier. His applying _twin soul,_ and _wishlist,_ and just _Old Harry_ junk in general on new ‘normal assistant editor Harry’ was so selfish and inappropriate and just plain creepy. If Niall was here he’d say that’s a whole lot of toppings for a person who doesn’t even know they were an ordered pizza.

His chest heavy with being the main place he chose to direct the rush of feelings to avoid it showing on his face, he eased his palm out of Harry’s hand to clutch it and noticed they were now sweaty and hot. The breeze instantly bit them back to temperature. And this definitely was not the time to tell Harry what he brought him all the way out here to say. Not when perhaps the wine had clouded his common sense.

“We should get back. We have a long day tomorrow," he said as Harry reluctantly removed his abandoned hand from Louis' lap.

They both scrambled to get up and trotted back to the bike.

Harry put on a helmet but Louis walked up to him and stopped him, gently removing it and replacing it with the other one.

“Your head is bigger than mine,” he said when Harry shot him a questioning look. Louis waited for the laugh but it didn’t come. Not even a playful shrug or a ghost of a smile as he buckled up the helmet to secure it on him.

"Do you think we'll be late?" Harry finally said throatily as Louis started up the engine.

"Don't worry, hopefully we'll be back before the company goes to pot."

Encasing his hands around Louis' waist, Harry finally guffawed, and Louis felt like the moon had opened up from the clouds as they sped off into the night.

*

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so funny to me. The way Louis was so wildly confused and conflicted.😂  
> Thanks so much for all the support on this.😍❤❤💙💚 Look out for the next chapter in a day or 2.


	10. Chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I realize there are some minor typos in some of the chapters. (proofreading is harder than it sounds) Don't worry I am catching them all as we speak. This chapter is kinda short but don't worry another is close behind. Some of them will be long too. Enjoy this next chapter.

_~There is no such thing as aging but maturing and knowledge. It's beautiful, I call that beauty~ Celine Dion_

Harry jog-trotted to the park, taking in the smells and sights of the city. Rome was a special place. Even the beach on the edge of the city was more pleasant than he had expected. Breath-taking even at night. But somehow he figured he thought that because Louis took him there. The whole thing was beautiful, the way the universe lined it up so Louis got to take him to the very beach he told him about when they had met, so that the same winds Louis told him he reminded him of would whisper in his ear and ruffle through his hair. He wished Louis could just see how perfect that was. How perfect they were.

He spotted the bench where the woman said she would be and made his way over to it. He remembered Louis’ cramped hand. And heart leaping like a frog, Harry reached out and took it, wanting, _needing_ , to help stop the pain. And while he had been doing that he came to the conclusion that he liked his big over-sized hand in Louis' smaller, hairier one. But more than that, he wanted to hold that trembling, twitching hand forever. He didn't know what it was but in that moment he knew he couldn't deny it anymore. His heart was doing all the navigating, and it chose Louis, no way around it.

He walked up to the bench and took a seat. There was no one around save for an elderly couple walking their dog and two kids playing catch on the grass. It was early but this was the time she said.

Almost as if she had arrived by apparition, the woman from the mausoleum took a seat without looking at him. Dark sunglasses and scarf wrapped even under a broad-brimmed hat and chic gloves, she spared him not one look. It was as if she was some covert spy coming to reap information from a secret source.

"Who are you!?" he said, shifting to face her.

The woman watched him open his red water bottle to take a drink. "I want to talk to you about the little girl you help look after."

Harry gulped down hard. _Help look after? She must think I’m the babysitter._ “Actually I work at the magazine. My name is Harry.”

“Styles... I know,” she slid one leg over the other and clasped her fingers together on the top knee. “I heard you all talking to each other at the mausoleum. I assumed you were her au pair the way she clung to you. You certainly don’t dress like an office worker.”

Harry scanned her face. She had an accomplished, self-reliant look about her with a touch of austerity that showed she had been through a great deal in her life.

She finally took off her sunglasses. Harry squinted his eyes to inspect her features. What business does she have with Nailee? 

Then he suddenly got it. 

“You're Hailee, aren't you?” He recognized her high cheekbones from one of the photos on Louis’ study mantle.

She eyed him suspiciously without answering.

“Louis has a picture; You, him, Crystal, and your husband,” Harry elaborated.

She went rigid at the word husband and it took a few blinks to regain her previously solid composure.

Harry noticed and realized he pulled a nerve. “I’m sorry about Niall. Louis told me what happened. But I can’t imagine why you abandoned your daughter.”

“You know nothing about my life,” Hailee lashed out. “Everything I did was for her." Jaw tight with the spew, she then fell back into a subdued daydream. Harry leaned back, hesitant to call her out of it just yet.

~~ ****

_Hailee slid through the small gathering, the argument with Louis still on her mind. The nerve he had to threaten custody of her child._

_The wake was swimming with mourners. It was mostly people from the nearby college campus and environs. Hailee knew most of them were students because they usually visited the mausoleum for their college projects._

_Some dude passed with a tray of soft drinks in cups and Hailee took one, looking around for someone with booze to add to it._

_Then, up by the unlit fireplace, a guy started talking. Hailee knew him from the seminars her brother used to take her and Louis to. He looked beat out like this death had hit him the hardest._

_"I uh. I'm Liam, for those of you who don't know. This is my uncle's house and I'm a late graduate. I'm an alcoholic who kept repeating my years until all my friends had all left and gone on to secure decent jobs. This past year was my last chance to prove to my uncles that I can carry on in the family legacy of top graduates from my college. A few weeks in I already predicted this would be another year wasted as I just didn't see myself succeeding. Then I saw a pamphlet for a program where we basically accommodate foreign teachers and students eager for a place to stay where they can learn the language and culture while teaching us English._

_“I volunteered my uncle's guest house, and that's how I met Edward. I already knew a bit of English but I figured he'd do my homework for me. I know I'm a horrible person.” He laughed. "We spent months building a friendship -" he started crying- "apart from refusing to do my homework but instead helping me with it, he taught me that being rich doesn’t mean you stick your head in the sand and ignore the world around you. There are so many people out there who need help and being as privileged as myself I have a role in bettering the lives of others. I am in the process of doing just that. To the beautiful soul that was my friend for a few months- Edward, I love you. Rest in peace."_

_"Life is short," a woman came up and said. "He was only twenty-four. He'd bring me a cappuccino every morning before my lecture. I will be lucky if I ever get that again." The woman, Hailee suspected was a fellow teacher of this Edward, left it at that and drank from her sanitary cup._

_Damn! He was so young, Hailee deduced as another friend stepped up to talk._

_"Edward was an amazing person," this one said. "He loved Italian culture and wanted to teach it as a career. I enjoyed the evenings with him, sprawled out on campus lawn studying and listening to his stories of home."_

_It hit Hailee just how easy it was to die. This Edward had his whole life ahead of him. He wanted to live. And here she was deliberately putting death in her path, in her system. Her daughter was about to lose her father. What if she fails to stay off the drugs? What if she ODs again? What if one-day Crystal gets a hold of her stash without her knowing and ends up in the hospital or worse?_

_"We will always remember him as the awesome, bright friend he was. To Edward."_

_"To Edward," the rest of the room echoed, and Hailee breathed out._

~~

"I was a drug addict and Louis was the only one stable in her life. It was a no-brainer."

“Must have been a hard decision to make," Harry said, seeing the pained look on her face.

"Yes, well I’m not here to talk to you about the past,” Hailee cleared her throat. “Hailee Steinfeld," she offered her hand. "You know Gregory Hastings, the guy that presents the daily scoop on _OnSetterOnline.com_?"

Harry searched the air but did not recall, being new in Rome and all.

"I'm his boss," she provided. "It's a very successful news and gossip hub. So you'll guess I'm very powerful. I want to make a deal with you concerning the little girl. I’ll tell you what; you get me half an hour every day with my granddaughter, starting from tomorrow, and I'll double whatever he pays you. Just between us."

By 'he' she obviously meant Louis, and if Harry knew him well he would be boiling mad if he knew Hailee was here making such a bribe. Harry noted her desperation and wondered what it was that she did to garner so much hate from Louis. To Harry the older man was a bit of a dark horse himself but most of that was due to his mysterious history with this Hailee.

“I can’t possibly do that behind her mother’s back.”

“I gave birth to _her_ _mother’s back_ ," she spat, making Harry wince. "Funny everyone keeps forgetting that."

"I understand but you know I can't just introduce her to you. She doesn't know you and you don't know her. You're a stranger."

"Very well. Why don't you start by telling me about her.”

“Okay,” Harry saw he had to tread lightly. “She's a friendly, feisty, happy little girl. Smart. She got a fever the other day. But she's feeling a lot better."

Hailee immediately grew a look of deep worry associated with most grandmothers.

“K then," she glared into Harry’s face, no doubt noting his concern for the child’s wellbeing as well. He noticed her chestnut eyes, not the same color with Crystal’s. And the photo of Louis' mantle flashed in his head. The picture was too faded and worn to see everyone’s eye-color but he now guessed Crystal got them from the infamous Niall. Nailee must either have her dad's or Hailee's eyes.

Harry dared to risk the trust building between them by asking, “What was it like; Louis’ friendship with Niall?” The man was always so quiet and intent whenever Niall came up in conversation, and after he opened up a bit more since their talk at the fountain Harry told himself that perhaps Niall held the key to something inside Louis that Harry thought needed to be let out. Some part of him that had been peeking out at him from the shadows like a shy child afraid to join the game, looking away and dissipating whenever Harry set eyes on him.

“Why? Does he talk about him?”

Harry raised his bottle and took a drink. “Sometimes.” His eyes wandered to the distant zucchetto top of St Peter’s Basilica. “He talks about you with contempt though.”

“As he should,” the woman said pompously, not keen on saying anymore. But not before Harry saw the upward crease in the corner of her lips and the slight flicker of old friendly fondness in her eyes.

Harry knew well by now how wary the man was about his family’s well being. His mind fell back to the previous night, before they rode to the beach, to what he had overheard Louis say to Crystal’s new beau. He had taken to the patio for fresh air and saw in the near distance Louis a little too up close and personal with Dustin for his liking. Louis’ back was turned to Harry, and as he listened and looked on, Harry understood he was not snuggling up to him, but sizing him up, so to speak. Giving him a warning.

 _‘Those people in that room. All of them. I would do anything, stop at nothing for their protection.”_ the tone in his voice had said he was prepared to slay a dragon. But _\- ‘those people in that room. All of them...’_ –Louis could have simply said his family, but he included the whole room. Harry had been in that room, playing the piano as he had done before. Louis had included him in the group of people he would slay dragons for. Yet on the beach when Harry was about to ask him about it, to ask him if he really felt that way about him, the man let go of his hand and closed up like a clam again. This game they played was so frustrating and unnecessary. Harry knew in his gut that this would all be easier if _Finch_ hadn’t happened. 

“I’ll tell you what, Hailee,” he crossed his legs at the knees and turned to face her. “You can see your granddaughter as soon as today. Catch is- I want to make a counter deal...”

*

That afternoon the sun was crisp over the savannah, burning down on Harry once again. He took a stroll, keeping his eyes most of the time across the mowed grounds, to the bench where Hailee sat getting acquainted with her granddaughter, his eyes seeing something multi-colored moving between the two on the seating- a doll maybe.

As the sweat beaded down his neck he wondered whether he was making a mistake. He stopped, his mind revisiting a moment from his past; Him asking Ben if he loved his wife, through tears at just being told the professor was married. The man’s reply was a series of _nos_ that each sounded like lies. He remembered seeing the fraudulence in his eyes, hoping Harry would take his word for it and let him back in his bed. Harry was moved by Louis’ honest reply when he asked the same question on the beach. The man was so genuine and innocent, and even with his ex-wife being a lying manipulator he still spoke kindly of her. Harry cherished his honesty. His grace.

Apart from the man-to-man statement Louis made to Dustin, something had forged between Harry and Louis last night. Something in the way the older man didn’t let go of his hand on the windy beach made it clearer than ever he belonged by the man’s side. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it felt different from back at the hotel. Stronger. He silently vowed that if Louis had no intention of rekindling things between them in the fray of how things at the company were presently, then he would remove every obstacle between them. Or at least try. And this- even if he was being reckless in his actions- was the only way he saw to do it.

*

A half hour later, back through the foot-trail to the house with Nailee and Bruce trotting alongside, Harry had just hit the front door when his phone rang from his track pants.

"I’m gonna show Mum and Granddad what our new friend Taylor gave me,” Nailee cuddled her new colorful teddy bear.

And yeah, Taylor. Hailee’s new name. Harry had taken five laps around the Savannah while keeping his eyes on Nailee and her grandmother. Of course they had not told Nailee she was her grandmother, and Hailee preferred to be called something else for fear Louis found out she was visiting the child without his permission. The official story Harry and Hailee agreed on was that they met a nice lady in the park who shared her honey roasted peanuts and took a liking to Nailee because she reminded her of her own granddaughter who lived far away.

“Can we play baseball later?" Nailee said above the ringtone, letting Bruce off the leash.

"Sure, Nay," Harry said before pressing the green icon to take the call.

"Hey, Mum!" he said as he broke the foyer.

"But I thought they were extending the time on the payment?... Where are you supposed to live? -Uncle Edgar!? No. No way. I rather visit you on the street!" Harry’s uncle was the only family member who never showed support when he came out to them. But then he never showed fondness for his brother’s only child to begin with.

After the phone call, Harry marched to his room. He sat massaging his temples where beads of sweat from his run trickled down. He was all wet but it did nothing to cool the heat zooming through his body.

He peeled off his T-shirt and hit the shower. He tried to get the fact that despite his determination to make it in life, his family might be vagrants soon out of his head. He had to keep his eye on the ball.

*

**Louis pov**

"I have to say, Dustin really came through for us," Dianna said, swinging in Louis' chair as the team gathered in the study for a meeting. "Miss Swift agreed to work with us on the fashion issue. _Romani Woman_ and _IColorture_ are now a team. Now all we have to do is prepare Harry for the spokes job."

"I'm quite impressed with Mr. Payne's insight," said Crystal from the old sofa, hand gesturing on beat with her words. "He has a keen eye- I mean; Harry is the perfect candidate. He's fresh, young."

"His mission statement and cover letter says it all," Nick added sugarly, from next to Crystal. "He is the one to do this."

From his seat on the edge of the desk, Louis frowned at Nick. _He saw his cover letter?_ The other night Louis had been all geared up to tell Harry how he felt- still feels- and that it was a lost cause to wish anything to come out of it. But instead a very different conversation happened while he had been holding Harry’s hand. And as he held it he had felt something enigmatic. A force pulling him towards Harry instead of away from him, and had wiped out everything he had planned to say, and suddenly he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to say ‘we can’t be together,” so he didn’t say ‘I still have feelings for you’ to begin with. In retrospect it wasn’t that he would have said instead ‘let’s be something more, let’s go down the road of the unknown,’ it was more like he wanted to say 'I’ll take care of you, protect you, be your friend, a real friend who keeps you safe.' But that was how he felt going into the friendship, so why were the feelings ever so strong now? Why did they make him feel like Harry had some type of soul bond with him.

Indecision. That’s what it was. His glitch of a hand got held by a soothing soft one and he froze. Choked up. And was left unable to decipher the scrambled plan that had scattered when their hands touched, simply because he could not decide if he really wanted to tell the person he loved that there was no chance for them as more than friends. But no worries. It only meant he would have to try harder next time to put an end to the blinding fireworks between them. The catch is, how was he going to do that when Harry was out here fulfilling the fantasy wishlist _and_ the prophecy at the same time. How was Louis going to ignore those two huge elephants in the room.

"He's articulate and always ready to share ideas about the direction of the features," Dianna was saying.

Louis exchanged looks with Dan, who had just arrived that morning. His arms folded, the man looked severely disgruntled from his seat on the armless chair opposite Dianna, rolling his eyes and scoffing at the accolades.

Louis wasn't about to downright say yes, but he had to agree with Dianna. "The magazine does mean a lot to him."

Crystal agreed. "Harry is the face. Where is he anyway? He should be around to hear this."

Dianna replied, "He must be somewhere running around the flower garden with Nailee."

Louis absentmindedly glanced out the window. He returned his attention to the meeting but had to do a double take back to the window. To his astonishment Harry was indeed out there with Nailee and Bruce, playing baseball, to be precise.

Harry made a wicked bat and Louis let out a small giggle as the man shot off running. The giggle though was quickly stifled by a large gasp and "Ow!" as the ball came flying straight into the open window and hitting Louis in the head. 

Crystal yelped, dashing to the man’s aid as he clutched the hairline above his forehead.

With the fresh jab of pain on Louis' forehead something he said at dinner suddenly came to a whirring mind.

 _‘Love is what you make it…’_ He opened his eyes and looked toward a remorseful Harry who stuck his head in the window to check on him. Strange not only did he exhibit all the things Louis _made_ up in his head as a young man like playing the piano and liking the same flowers, but he shared other things in common with Louis too, like baseball and literature. Heck, he was literally all the things Louis had once thought made the perfect partner.

"This is who you want as your _face_?" Dan asked Dianna and Crystal with a look of derision.

 _Face?_ Louis thought, head throbbing now, Try my _everything._

*

"How is your head?" Harry asked for the millionth and one time at dinner.

He leaned forward in the Georgian dining chair opposite Louis, as Marietta sorted the dishes from the curio cabinet and brought out the meal; Ground Beef Casserole with Biscuit topping.

Crystal and Dianna sat on either side of Louis, their faces glowing in the radiance of the intricate two-light crystal sconces on the main wall behind Harry, who sat between Nick and Nailee with Freddie on the other side of her. The light also fell on Freddie but it did nothing to flatter his glower which always focused on Harry.

Passing the fresh salad bowl, Louis gave the most rigid smile in reply. Feeling guilty, Harry stared off at the majestic Honduran mahogany chair back in the background of Louis’ shoulders.

“Listen, Crystal, I was wondering maybe if I could take Nailee and Bruce to the park to play baseball from now on? I think the fresh air would be good for her.”

Crystal looked a bit sceptical. “I don’t think I want her so far from the house.”

“Nonsense,” Louis jumped in. “There are other kids there. She must get lonely here when all of us are working all the time. It’s best they play baseball out there instead of in my flower garden. We’d all be safe,” he deadpanned, making Harry lower his head apologetically.

Crystal pursed her lips. “Ok, whatever you say boss- Fine, Harry. You can take her on your morning runs if she’s up to it and maybe on evenings. After you’ve finished your work.”

Harry said thank you and was cutting into his meal when Dianna turned to him. "Is everything okay at home? I heard your home is going to be seized by the bank?" she exchanged looks with Freddie who timely sipped his drink.

Louis was about to sip some tea but froze with the cup. All eyes were now on Harry.

"Harry, why didn't you say something?" Crystal stopped cutting her food and asked.

"Because it's private," he flashed Dianna a glare.

She flew into apologies. "I'm sorry Harry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. But it's okay. I'm willing to help you with this."

Louis looked between them, his attention skyrocketing.

Freddie erupted. "If it was so private you might have wanted to go to your room."

Louis fixed Freddie a stare.

"I was in the foyer when I got the call and my room was all the way down the hall!" Harry hotly retorted.

Freddie muttered under his breath, "Ever heard of something called _'hold please?'_ "

Crystal scuffed. "Freddie, how rude."

"Tell me I'm wrong," Freddie dared them, digging into his food.

"That's enough." Louis said it at normal range and without a tone; Nailee's sake.

Harry was seething. Nick put his greasy hand on the back of Harry’s hand. “If you want to talk about it we can have a stroll in the garden after dinner.” His eyes looked hungry for more than the ground beef. Louis’ stomach churned, and he watched Harry politely decline with a soft smile. Louis’ shoulders eased, though he thought the man’s smile too coquettish for a staunch decline.

"I'll be happy to write you a cheque," Dianna smiled warmly amid another outburst of objection from Freddie.

"That won't be necessary," Harry mumbled in and out of a whisper.

"Do check for proper information first, Di," Dan, who was sitting next to her, finally spoke up. "Before you just _give out_ charity," he finished satirically with a condescending look at Harry.

Harry fixed him with an eye squint. Louis' jaw set at the older man. Freddie grinned broadly hiding it behind his glass.

“You can live with us, Harry,” Nailee said softly. “Our house back home is much bigger than this one.”

“It’s not me, Nay. It’s my parents.” Harry spoke nicely to her only.

“Well they can stay too, -right Granddad?”

Louis eyebrows went up irresolute.

Crystal then spoke, saving him the trouble of replying. "Why would Harry lie, Uncle Dan?"

“I’m just saying, you don’t know the whole situation.”

Harry threw down his napkin. "That was a private conversation between me and my parents, and I never asked for any money,” he said stiffly, addressing the table. “I don't want your pity. I just want a little respect." Pushing away his chair, he stamped to his feet and was out the door. 

*

**Louis pov** ****

Louis saw him sitting in the twilight-like lighting of the pool.

"I apologize for my family," Louis said from some distance as he approached, alerting him to his presence. "They can be…"

"Downright rude?" Harry said, watching as Louis pulled up the material around his knees for enough trouser room to squat down beside him. He sat, his white socks peeking out from under the khaki fabric.

He wrapped his arms around his bent knees. "Overbearing at times."

"I can tell Freddie doesn't like me. Thinks I'm not to be trusted." Harry had scraped his golden brown curls back and whatever product he had used was worn out as the whole thing frizzed, sticking out in different directions. He looked like a frustrated college professor who had foolishly taken on the challenge to solve a problem no one could solve. Louis found it ravishingly quirky. And had to restrain his innate instinct to take all his fingers through it and breathe it in, down to the sebum and all. 

"I watch you with Nailee. She adores you. I'm extremely protective of her, and I just gave you permission to take her to the park. That's how much I trust you, Harry."

"But at the end of the day I'm still just the assistant Editor of the magazine."

"A million-dollar magazine," Louis corrected, and Harry let a laugh escape.

"You are such a show off."

Louis giggled. "I gotta own it, don't I? ' _To find joy in work is to discover the fountain of youth.'_ " The two men exchanged smiles.

“I thought my only future was in politics. I even started out editing political articles for a local newspaper. I had no idea what I was doing. But I knew I loved it. I know you love your job, Harry."

"I do. But it's hard enough without people doubting you and judging you along the way. You basically take care of everything for Freddie, and your father was a high-society political leader. Neither of you know what it's like to grow up with nothing."

“That may be so, but having no money isn't the only way to grow up lacking, Harry. Even privileged people have scars that aren’t on the surface. There are other obstacles that stop people from living their true potential."

"Then let's pretend there isn't anything in our way," Harry implored. “Like we're back in the hotel room and it’s just us."

Louis reckoned this was it. The ultimate test. This was where he showed enormous strength and pushed against the force that was so adamant for him to make a fool of himself for a twenty-six-year-old man. But if he thought this was easy, if he thought that Harry beckoning for them to go back in time and reclaim their happiness, their peace, would be easy to turn down based on the younger man’s apparent amorality, then he was dead wrong. 

But going against his every grain, he closed his eyes and whispered. "It's late, Harry. Should get to bed." He stretched as he got up and held out his hand. Harry took it and was pulled to his feet and they started walking along the side of the pool to the house.

"You did strike me as a political advocate though, when we met," Harry said casually as they walked. The blue of the pool together with the lighting threw gentle sparkles over Harry's face, making his smile seem brighter. He seemed to have grown accustomed to Louis’ reserve and adamant to not make a big deal about it. “I can picture you lobbying about the slippery cobblestones throughout the city." 

Louis chortled and nudged him. A little too hard apparently, because the man went falling sideways with not enough time to grab on to his sleeve for support, and he ended up splashing into the pool.

Louis' mouth fell open, and he let out a boisterous laugh holding his chest at what just happened. It took him a moment before he understood that it was no laughing matter. Harry was in a panic. He gurgled and beat up and yelped wildly, splashing water to the point of invisibility.

Louis dived in and grabbed hold of him as his feet kicked up a frenzy. Poor thing was gasping for air and he wasn't even under water.

"Look at me!" Louis cupped his jaw. "Hey, hey, hey," Louis moved drenched hair from his face. He came within a few inches of Harry's nose, a look of pure concern and something else he tried to push behind now.

He helped him out of the water, getting out first then pulling him up by his arms. They sat on the warm tiled floor, Harry sopping and shivering and folding his arms, legs to the side. His curves were so smooth and delicate, and his legs strong. Louis swallowed, picturing himself clamped between them. He berated himself for thoughts of a brazen plunder of something too precious for him. 

His heart tore apart as it crept up how much he loved Harry. This Harry who- jump high, jump low- was everything Louis had dreamed about long ago. How much Louis wanted to be the one to in turn make his every dream come true and support him for the rest of his life, but that was the thing. Time wasn't on his side that way. He wanted so badly to try and admit it; that their time at the hotel stayed with him too and he wanted to see what could have happened if they had kept seeing each other. But Louis knew if they tried it and they worked out he would still never get to see Harry grow old with him. Older maybe, but not old. He dragged his hands down his face as he contemplated what to do, how to wiggle his way out of these enormous feelings.

Then a calmer Harry raised a shaking hand to touch Louis' hairline where the ball hit. The shimmering water must have made it more prominent. And Louis felt like trying this time, as the glaze of water over Harry’s chin caught his eye and held his gaze like a diamond in the floodlight. And as if he was not captivated enough, he happened to notice Harry’s stare too. Harry looked at him like his eyes were rare onyxes, mouth open with painted breath. 

And Louis caved.

"If you still want to be the spokesmodel, I think the company can benefit from your perspective." Louis looked at the water when he said it, his body wet but his mouth bone-dry. There was no way he would have said it had it not been true.

"But you said you weren't keen on-"

"I know what I said,” Louis spoke in a slight shiver, chlorinated water dripping down his nose. “To tell you the truth I was scared when you offered to model the clothes. It's a tough world out there. Tons more accepting than when I ran the journals, but tough still. I just didn't want you to regret it. But at the same time I am so proud that you feel comfortable enough to photograph for the pages and be seen by millions of people. That's one of the things I always wanted to encourage with the _Herculean times_ , and _IColorture_. I wanted all members of the LGBT community to feel safe and proud to show their colors to the world."

"But I was kinda worried about that because _IColorture_ isn't exactly an LGBT themed magazine."

“No. It was supposed to be. My vision was to make the _Herculean times_ a monthly magazine focusing on diverse cultures. If it hadn't been for _Outrage,_ what we know as _IColorture_ would have been a healthy merge with the _Herculean times."_

Harry awed and _wowed_ and the more he did it Louis knew he was the right choice for the spokesmodel. And somehow Louis felt a sense of pride in at least having the first spokesperson for anything _IColorture_ be a representation of the reason he and Niall began the journals in the first place.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Just say yes, Harry. It means a lot to Dianna, and it's also an opportunity to use your Communications degree."

Harry giggled and let it fade into a small welcoming smile. Louis unconsciously leaned in, falling prey to the young man's contagious smile. The same smile, he remembered, Harry shared with Nick at dinner. 

And Louis said he’d do it. He said he’d dissolve his and Harry's chemistry and support him as a friend, and that whoever Harry chose to set his sights on next would have his blessing. He promised himself he’d let him fly like the beautiful free-spirited and assertive butterfly he is. Go be with some guy closer to his own age. Even Nick who was twelve years older than Harry. But as a good friend, didn't Louis have a responsibility to him? Nick wouldn’t know how to love a man like Harry. No, Harry would have to find someone else.

“There is one thing,” Louis added softly, almost afraid to say it but he felt he had to. “About Nick- I don’t want you fiddling around with him, do you understand?” He knew the two had not begun dating –yet- but he had to give the impression that he suspected as much in order to make his ‘left field’ condition seem valid.

And indeed Harry was caught off guard. He stared at Louis dumbfounded but said nothing. Louis sensed the conclusion forming in his beaconed eyes, that Louis was somehow jealous. Louis would not dare admit anything of the sort, but-

“It will be bad for... company morale.”

“I won’t,” nodded Harry vigorously, excessively before looking away to the gardens. Amidst trying not to think about him and Nick together, Louis caught something glistening under his eyes a little too much to be water from the pool.

He reached out and touched his face, running the pads of his fingers over his skin. Tears. “You’re crying. Why are you crying?” he could barely talk above a murmur.

Harry had the same look he had the night before on the beach. But he said, “It’s happy tears. I’m happy you’re giving me a chance to prove myself to the company.”

“Well, then you should also know that as our new spokesmodel it won’t be right to leave your parents in their current rut. Just email me the particulars and consider the problem solved.” 

When Dianna offered at dinner, he wanted to do the helping but he didn't want to jump all up in Dianna's case. Plus, everyone would wonder why he was so interested in Harry all of a sudden, except Crystal. She would know, and give him hell about it. Ever since she realized a cute guy named Harry worked at _IColorture_ she had been sending Louis looks and glares in meetings and the last thing he needed was for her to think he might be remotely interested in the much younger man. He did not want to think what she'd say if he told her he thinks he might be _the one._

Louis waited for it. The broad smile, the wide cheerful eyes, the grateful hug. But Harry folded his arms. And his face wasn’t too happy either. More like, suspicious. Did he sense that Louis was doing this out of fondness? Did he think Louis was gloating?

“You know I’m paying this back, right?” Harry said, left brow raised high with a smirk.

Louis laughed and bit his lips. He gave a fervent nod, casting a gaze over Harry who was now shaking his head and grinning.

They were flirting. Louis had barely realized it was happening until the teeth disappeared and all that was heard between them was dripping water and the crickets coming from the garden.

“I have to set the groundwork for a three pm press conference tomorrow to announce the campaign you will be headlining. Go get some rest in the meantime.”

“I can’t let you stay up and do all that alone,” Harry straightened up, serious and alert. “Are you sure I can’t help with something?”

"No. Not tonight. I need my new spokesperson well rested for this. Go ahead- off to bed. And uh, you can use my treadmill on mornings. Think I don't notice you sprinting in these past few days? I don't want you getting lost out there."

Harry went white for a second before catching on. "I have google maps," he chipped.

Louis snorted. "Your generation, I swear. You never learn anything by heart."

"Thus why I want to familiarize myself with as much as Rome as possible. I want to remember everything when I'm old."

A strong will to tell him he can stay in Rome as long as he likes or return anytime he desires free of charge overtook Louis but he knew it was overstepping. And this was all about ignoring the need to impress Harry, however he may have failed already.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Louis," Harry gave a warm smile and turned into the shield of the front hallway.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, so Hailee. I fashioned this older more established Hailee in the inspiration of Anna Wintour. Hope you guys enjoy her appearances in the coming chapters. please fell free to say what you think about Harry's actions in this.


	11. Chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we are into the latter half of the fic where everything is going to escalate and all that so buckle up, get your glasses. I know updates are hard to wait for but I noticed with my other fics as soon as all updates are finished posting hits and comments tend to cease almost completely and I get little feedback on them so forgive me if I want to ride this wave as long as I possibly can. I am also trying to proofread on my own before posting which is hard for me so please be patient and enjoy the updates as they come every two days or so.

**_~Some people are old at 18 and some are young at 90. Time is a concept that humans created~ Yoko Ono_ **

Two swallows chirruped at the window sill, picking at the dirt in the flower pot. It was that combined with an incoming call that woke Harry up.

“Hmm,” he answered groggily, batting his arms at the birds, shooing them away.

"Where are you? You're supposed to be here already!"

 _Oh shit. Hailee_. He flew up. "Today's not a good day. We have a press conference at three and the house will be busy."

"What is this? You didn't have an objection before. What is the cause of this?"

Harry rubbed his eyes. "He just made me the spokesperson for the new magazine campaign. Do you know how big that is?"

To be honest he was having second thoughts about the deal. Louis had been kind enough to reconsider his stance on the campaign making Harry the spokesperson and let Harry in a little. He figured it was greedy to want more than that for now, especially when Louis and his family so readily offered to help his parents’ situation. How could he ask for more? How could he conspire behind the back of the man he claims to love? He thought he had seen jealousy in the man’s eyes even if he said it was company policy or some shit like that. But even so, Harry had no place assuming this was okay and that he can shape things to suit himself. No, he had to cut this conspiracy short.

"He trusts me and I can't betray that." 

"Listen to me," Hailee growled into the speaker, "You forget when we made our little deal you told me about your feelings for Louis. If you refuse to help me I will make it known through my media. Think how he will feel about you running your mouth about the _passionate stares_ in the office? He will see the headline _‘Magazine Mogul Woos Twenty-six-year-old Employee’_ and you can kiss your little _lardy dardy_ job good bye!"

Some nerve. What did she think this was, nineteenth century England? A case of Oscar Wilde on trial here? Harry abruptly sat up in the bed. “You wouldn’t dare jeopardize your daughter’s company. Her birthright.”

There was a short, biting pause, and Hailee’s voice grew darker. “I don’t think you are in any position to question what I’m capable of.” The woman’s whole demeanor turned deadly. Harry grew afraid. What if Louis really does see that headline and finds out he had told the head of an online magazine about them? And a woman who's name Louis had shown nothing but contempt for? Harry dared not think of how disappointed he'd be.

"Okay. We'll be there in fifteen."

“And one more thing,” the woman barked. “Leave that mutt at home.”

Harry rasped, “Bruce is the only excuse I have to take Nay out at all. Where she goes, he goes.”

Pressing the red icon with rage, he hung up on her and quickly got dressed. Closing the door carefully, now in his tracks and hoodie, he stomped to Nailee's room, Bruce wagging behind him.

"Morning, Nay,” he said chirpily when she heard Bruce’s bark and had opened the door, still in her jammies. “Get dressed. Bruce is all ready for his early-morning stroll at the park."

*

"You texted me pretty late last night. I only had two hours to put together a plan for our new spokesperson," Crystal winked at Louis. She stood in the sunny driveway directing the props crew on where to set up the podium. The men side-eyed Louis while raising a pair of large dark curtains to serve as the background, as Louis had come outside to yell at them not to gauge his lawn with the heavy equipment.

"I know," concurred Louis, after shouting at the crew to set up near the carpark. He had already spent half an hour helping Dan place the security personnel they hired to make sure no reporters snuck in the property to hide in the dumpster during the press conference. "I spent all night writing him a speech."

"I’m so glad you had a change of heart, Daddy,” said Dianna, her neutral-colored heels _tock_ _tock tocking_ as she moved about showing another set of deliverymen where to wheel the racks of clothing that had just arrived from _Romani Woman._ They were also wheeling a small box- probably makeup, Louis told himself. "Where is Harry, anyway? Miss Swift's outfits are here. I need him fitted for one right away. He can't face that jungle of cameras in ordinary attire. And she also sent some fragrance samples from her wife's new perfume business she wanted Harry to endorse."

"So _that's_ the catch for them doing this so jiffy," figured Louis. "They want us to spend more money on their shit."

"It's what fashion is all about, Boss," Nick said, from his notepad. He was busy marking off every item entering the compound. "I think I saw him and Nailee take Bruce out pretty early this morning."

Louis gave a prodigious sigh. "We have no time for that. This thing is at three. Call him back here!"

Crystal flapped her arms on her thighs. "You're the one who sanctioned this! I told you they should stay in the compound."

Louis sighed again, mind still on Harry. "Harry only has a few hours to recite his speech. I don't want him reading off the paper like some _eight-grader."_

Dianna and Crystal exchanged eye-rolls.

*

"Harry, Di's been looking for you." Louis walked in the livingroom to see Harry and Nailee both on their bellies on the floor with dolls and teacups and squares punched in the empty VFan boxes for windows, which Louis thought had been thrown out previously. 

He was set to yell, but the sight appeased him. “Well, look at that- Someone’s good at making _cardboard boxes_ liveable.”

A smile broke out on Harry’s face, exposing his dimples. Louis smirked.

“Nailee, I think your mother is looking for you- and Harry, can I have a word?”

“Yes boss?” Harry said as Nailee dashed out to find her mother.

Louis smiled at the smarty pants quip. “Did you forget you have a press conference today?”

“Not at all. Isn’t that at three?”

“I’ve been trying to track you down all morning to give this to you,” he handed him a thin paper folder. “It’s your speech.”

“Yeah we just got back from the park,” Harry quickly responded, flipping through the sheets of paper. “Speech? You didn’t tell me anything about a speech.”

“What did you think, you were just gonna waltz out there and recite your fifth grade paper? This spokesperson job is more than just editing. It’s the face of a company. You have to embody the ethic and the passion of what we do here at _IColorture_. That is, to bring the world together.”

"...for fashion," Harry added with an eyebrow.

Louis glanced off to the fireplace and rolled his eyes. "Yes, for fashion. Come on, you have to read this at least five times beforehand. Plus you have to pick an outfit for today. And something about perfume."

Harry stood there grinning from ear to ear. Louis looked quizzically at his lean, rubicund face.

“Did you eat doll cake or something?”

“You remembered about my fifth grade paper,” Harry said simply, a wide smile before taking the folder and skipping off to get ready.

*

**Louis pov**

The time passed quickly for the press conference in the courtyard. Everyone was dressed and waiting as the press set up outside. Except Harry, who –Louis had been told- was still struggling to recite the bloody speech while getting his makeup done. 

On his way to check on him, Louis gave an on-the-move Nailee a quick hug and complimented on her little suit, and knocked on Harry's door.

"Come in," he heard after he gave a few knocks. Louis met him nervously pacing, going over his speech.

“Louis, thank God you’re here. I’m so nervous I’ll screw up my speech. Plus, I just - I can't get this right," Harry fussed, pulling and looping his oversized tie every which way. Dianna had picked out a ruffled, rasping violet shirt with frills everywhere, tucked inside a pair of dark grey Glen plaid bootcut trousers. If it were up to Louis, he didn’t think he would choose such a loud outfit for the first introduction to the press but this was about fashion.

"Here, let me," Louis extended his hands to the lacings, glancing at the open door where Marietta and a security officer thudded by. The woman was chatting up the rigid man who uttered not a word back to her.

Harry cocked his chin up and set his eyes on Louis, who busied himself with tying the bow left to right, loop, trying not to look directly back at him.

"You look proper vintage. Call me old-fashioned, but I quite like frills and flounce," Louis quipped, moving swiftly.

He glimpsed Harry blush at that. His dewy, flowery perfume permeated the room, enthralling Louis’ senses.

Louis spread on a smile he had to quickly shove back in. _Why wasn't he born around the same time as me?_

“I know you’re nervous. But it helps to take a few deep breaths and picture everyone in the crowd as monkeys on mopeds eating bananas.” 

Harry snorted and his dimples emerged. 

Louis sighed, trying not to inhale too much of the flowery scent and go dizzy with desire. He privately berated himself for wanting the young man so. He knew very well Harry had once wanted him as a sexual partner might quite possibly still do, and though it was a mutual attraction he dared not reciprocate for the perversity of it. But it was sad. Harry had an inner beauty Louis longed to be a part of as he did in the hotel room, that captivating presence that sparked pure lust entrapped with bleeding endearment.

“Just speak from your heart.” He finished up the bow, taking a step back, and another as he humbly observed his handy work.

"Okay..." the man’s eyes went dreamy. “I guess I should start now. Louis?”

"Mhm?"

"I want a chance,” said Harry, rubbing his fingers together, the shirt material scrunching as his shoulders moved up tensely. “To finish what we started three years ago. You said at the hotel that I should do what makes me happy. I like being the spokesperson for _IColorture_. I love _IColorture_... But I love you too."

"Is that so?" Louis tried to act casual even under tight brows. This cannot be happening right now. Harry was a spokesmodel now, for Pete's sake. He had an even bigger responsibility to the company as the face of it. This was the worst timing to talk about feelings-wait, love- _Love?_ He loved him? 

"Yes."

"I'm flattered but I am too old for you." It came out sadder than he wanted. After their conversation last night Louis stayed up writing the speech and measuring the consequences of giving the greenlight on making Harry the spokesmodel. It meant he had to give him space to express himself and do his job without any old baggage. It meant that he had finally set him free even without telling him how he truly felt. But this...

"I'm twenty-six now. I'm more mature," Harry pleaded as Louis tightened the bow one last time.

Louis stared off to the window sill. The sun was coming in full blast on the flowerpot Harry put there. He wondered if this was about him mentioning the primary school paper. _All this because I remembered details about the hotel suite?_

Frowning, Louis stepped back a half meter, and Harry's eyes began to water. 

"Is there anything I can say?" the young man moved forward and grabbed his waist.

"Harry…" just a hand on his waist and Louis near had the wind knocked out of him. And there it was again. The feeling like their existence collided. The feeling that somehow this Harry was his Harry. 

The sound of a huddling crowd began to grow outside, giving Louis the strength to pull away. 

"They're waiting for you to address them and answer their questions,” he shifted to the side, his back touching the valet stand. “Remember to keep them short."

He pried his hands off and stood avoiding his eyes like wildfire. He couldn't… All he was capable of now was giving advice to the young man on his career. It had to be enough for everyone's sake.

*

Dianna stepped up on the platform and waved animatedly like she was the queen, giving a short speech before gesturing toward Harry who was standing sheepishly behind her on the far left next to Freddie, who was only hired as a background model in the upcoming photoshoot scheduled for the new magazine.

"This is Harry Styles, our new spokesmodel for the magazine offshoot,” she said as Harry stepped up toothily. “I hope you pose him with polite questions."

Harry stepped forward after a strained smile at Freddie, who was looking at him with the flat glare of a wrestler who had just signed a pay per view contract. 

“Di,” Louis susurrated to his step daughter as she took to his side on descending the platform. “Why did you pick such a dazzling outfit for Harry?” he tried to empathize where Freddie’s resentment was coming from. When Harry was chosen for the campaign, Freddie had been livid at the overslaugh **.** And now, in his chiffon and curls, Harry sure stood out among Freddie and the others up there, and even Louis in his plain navy two-button.

“I didn't. He chose it himself. Said if he was going to double as a model he might as well start off with a bang.”

Louis blinked rapidly as he let that information sink in. He turned around to see Dan standing behind him glaring at someone in front him. He followed the gaze to where Crystal was hand in hand with Dustin who was outlandishly dressed in a baseball cap and darkers for the occasion. Louis would have thought Crystal would be angry but she did not seem to mind. He did seem thoroughly engrossed in the press conference, pulling out his phone camera like he was at a concert. 

Louis leaned back into Dan to look at the couple and whisper; “Poor thing. Must be so bored being a weatherman he’d get excited for _melting ice_.” He tilted his head. Crystal was playfully swerving her head and giggle-talking with Dustin while they took selfies like a couple of teenagers. Crystal was always so serious about events like this, and the under dressed buffoon aside, Louis had to admit he liked seeing her this happy.

“Tell us what matters you hope to address with your new position as _IColorture_ mouthpiece!" A news lady initiated as Harry finished up a short intro and invited the media for engagements.

“How changing fashion affects members of the LGBT community. We want to be included in trends and have our interests considered by designers, boutiques and shops,” he answered spot-on, quite confident.

The conference seemed to be going well as Harry discussed matters that even Louis had the same concerns about. The press was digesting it well and interacting with him in a respectful way, seeming at times charmed by him. Louis leaned on the hope that if the press was impressed everyone else would be too.

Soon, Nick stepped up and whispered in Harry's ear -undoubtedly to end the conference on a good note, and just as Harry made to say goodbye, another question was posed.

“What about the issues concerning teen pornography?” a news reporter shouted. “Will you be addressing that?”

Louis began to sweat.

Harry knitted his eyebrows. “Absolutely. An adult has no right pursuing a minor or taking pictures of them. I think that is sick.”

"The laws are different here in Italy. Fourteen is the age of consent. Will _IColorture’s_ stance on the Articus Finch matter hold here?”

Louis shook his head. It was the dumbest question he ever heard. 

“Um...of course they will,” Harry said with fervor. “England’s laws hold for its citizens wherever they are. And even if it had happened in a country like Italy, the case of Finch was far from consent. He was in violation of the very law." 

Louis blew a sigh of relief at how Harry handled that ridiculousness.

As soon as the words left Harry’s mouth another microphone pointed at him. “The company is branching out into fashion. The loads of teen models you’re going to be working in close proximity with, plus surely you’ve been approached by older men and women... How do you plan on coping with all these different age groups swooning all over you?"

Louis knew the underlying question in those well covered words- _‘Have you come into contact with any perverts at IColorture.'_

Harry seemed to catch on to the undertone and said, “That’s the big question, isn’t it? I am enjoying the fundamentals and the fun of being a spokesperson.” He grinned before growing more serious. “I believe two adults who are into each other should bear no limit on age gap,” he said simply, emphasizing the _adults_.

Holding his breath, Louis looked at Crystal. She was slowly nodding as she looked up at the scene on the podium, giving the impression she was good with that answer. Louis breathed out even though he was not good with that answer himself in the slightest. He needed this to wrap up _now_.

"Say, exactly how big an age difference would you be comfortable with?" another journalist descended.

Harry seemed to think about that. "They say the standard age gap is ten years but I disagree. I'd say if one is maybe twenty-three, the other person can be anywhere higher on the chart as long as their love is reciprocated. They can be say, fifty... fifty-one; there is nothing wrong with that."

"What does he think he's doing?" Dan mumbled gratingly from behind Louis.

Louis' eyes wanted to pop out the sockets. Did Harry fail to realize this was a test, and in so doing ultimately fail the test? How stupid does he think the press are? Surely they will know which two people he's referring to.

To make Louis’ nerves worse, Harry had looked straight at him when he said it, forcing Louis to make a cut-throat sign for him to stop talking, which Nick had ended up seeing. Heeding Louis’ warning, the man then whispered to Harry again and the new spokesmodel’s next words were a fast-as-lightning _'thank you'_ before leaving the podium.

*

**Louis pov**

When the press conference was finished and all the media crews had scattered, an angry Louis mumbled in Harry’s ear- ‘A word in my office.’ He then shot off indoors and Harry followed. Louis stood by the door and as soon as he knew Harry was under the roof he grabbed him by the wrist. Harry let out a yelp, spinning to face an unnerved Louis, who kept a firm bird-grip as he marched silently all the way to his study.

Once they were inside, he let go. "Harry, are you mad? What were you thinking saying all those things to that pack of wolves?" he said gruffly, gesturing to his head as Harry turned the doorknob closed. “They will waste no time in roasting the company over the Finch scandal.”

"I only spoke the truth,” Harry stated hotly, drawing close. “That scandal has nothing to do with us yet here we are unable to be together because of it. I let them know that it’s okay to be with whomever you choose as long as we’re both adults. I'll do whatever it takes to dispel the taboo."

“This is preposterous,” Louis shook his head. “You dare insult me by assuming what I want. Why would I want someone so much younger? How can a relationship like that possibly work?”

Harry looked to the floor, a berated look on his face, and Louis turned, pacing.

“Romeo and Juliet..., Elizabeth and Mr Darcy...”

Louis stopped. What was Harry doing?

“Ruth and Boaz...” Harry continued until he ran out of examples.

Louis gave a curious look. He wasn’t a religious person but he knew the story of Ruth, so he silently permitted it on the ridiculous list Harry was presenting.

“Romeo and Juliet died! And those are characters from stories," Louis argued.

“Which real people wrote. And _Ruth_ is arguably a real story, so...”

“-that presumably happened thousands of years ago.”

"Fine, if you want a real, more relevant example- Oscar Wilde and the Lord Alfred Douglas."

Louis' lashes fluttered. He didn’t see that one coming. He looked up at the painting on the wall over the old couch. “That relationship was doomed.”

“I beg to differ. They reunited after his sentence.”

Louis turned to Harry, taking a hand out of his pocket to gesture self righteously. “Only to be broken up again." 

“At least they tried,” snapped Harry, on the verge of frustration.

“Even that age gap was not as wide as ours.”

“Our gap is as wide as my love is deep.”

Louis swallowed, rendered mute. He turned back on Harry to face the painting again. Harry strode up next to him and looked at the painting, copying his stance. Even the way Louis stuffed his hands in his pockets. Louis bit down on a laugh at his playfulness.

“It’s an ugly painting. Why do you like it?”

“Because Niall gave it to me.” 

A shameful look took over Harry's face. Louis laughed at him.

Harry frowned and took back his remorse. "It's still ugly."

" _You're_ ugly."

"Why, Louis?" Harry laughed for a second with dimples. "Why am I ugly? You know what, I know why you're being mean to me. It's because my name is Harry isn't it."- Louis screwed his face- "Oh my god, you totally dug up my info after our weekend. You're rich. You could do that stuff. You looked me up and decided because my name is Harry you would just not show up just like your penpal didn't show up for you."

Louis turned to look him in the eyes. "That is the most absurd thing I ever heard. I would never do that."

"But you are," Harry nodded pertly. "You're projecting your resentment towards him on me. It's why you stood me up and why you won't give us a chance now."

"Do you really think I'd break our promise to wait?" Louis said seriously. 

"You accused me first." Harry's voice had a light-hearted, teasing tone sending out radars reminding Louis of the fun they had that weekend. Looking back Louis thought of how astounding it was that two people could fall in love so easily without even knowing each other's names.

"What the hell were we doing, Harry?" Louis whispered poignantly, looking front to the painting again.

"Falling in love," was the reply as he felt Harry's hands take hold of his cheeks. 

Louis brought his hands to them but Harry held firm, demanding eye-contact. Louis’ cheeks grew hot under the touch, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the engulfing forest if he tried.

“Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas..,” Harry said, softer, sultry, enthroning the words into Louis with determination. “Céline and René.., Elton and David...”

 _And the list goes on,_ Louis sighed audibly trying to picture him and Harry married with kids, as happy together as the people he named. Pivoting his thoughts back to reality, he gently grabbed Harry’s hands. Prying them away from his face proved a twisted form of masochism as he was both in pain from the loss of contact from his face _and_ from wanting his grip on the man’s hands to last forever before letting go.

"Harry, a few nights ago you came into my room eyes blazing about underage boys being held against their will and…" Louis searched for more words but they would not come.

“What’s your point?” Harry cocked his ear derisively.

Harry's hands grew loose enough to let Louis pull them away and drop them. “My point is, Harry, you were born when I was twenty-eight years old. What would make me different from that, or from Finch, if I entertain you?"

“Easy; I’m not a child being held against my will."

“I’m not doing this with you again."

"You heard them out there- in Rome the age of consent is fourteen for god's sake. I'm _twenty six_."

"But it rises if the other partner is much older or has some kind of influence over the younger one," Louis spoke, but Harry was already speeding over with his own words.

"-and our English law says that from the age of eighteen- eight years ago for me- I have the right to be with whomever I choose as long as they are an adult too."

“Yeah you're right, you can be with whoever you want, provided they choose you, which...I do not.”

A condescending laugh slipped out of Harry's mouth. "I am not as naïve as you think. I know you feel the same."

"You know what the press will do if they find out our past? Your past?" 

"Why don't you just say it Louis? A prostitute."

"A very young prostitute who I spent an entire weekend with," Louis said before turning and pacing to the window. Crystal and Dan were out in the car park having a chat as the last reporter was led to the other side of the gates.

"A weekend neither of us can seem to forget." Harry came up behind him, close enough for him to feel his breath on his hair. Louis closed his eyes, not daring to turn around.

“Harry, this isn’t a game,” Louis fought to keep his breath steady, “We dodged a bullet with the press this time. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

Dianna appeared after two hearty knocks and stopped in her tracks. “Oh, am I interrupting something?” she hesitated, hand on her chest. 

Louis’ eyes popped open and he turned around in a panic but was relieved to see Harry a foot away at his desk looking down and pretending to be absorbed with the top of a stack of papers on it. The younger man scooped it up and shook his head. “Nope.” He then walked out from behind the desk and past Dianna, who remained a beat longer looking at Louis curiously. 

Moving away from the window he shrugged like ‘what?’ and she moved again, closing the door as she left.

Louis' eyes were pulled to the painting yet again, a sick churn in his belly. His face twisting in some horrible feeling he could not name, he rushed over and dragged it down, unable to look at it anymore.

*

Later that evening, Louis got up his desk with a headache, deciding to skip the whole _awkward-Harry_ dinner and turn in early. Between an aspirin and a few deep breaths, he was contemplating how to even begin to media-train Harry in order to futuristically avoid what had taken place at the press conference. God knows Dianna wasn’t thinking about that when she pushed for him to the spokesmodel job. 

He made his way to the door deciding he would start first thing in the morning, but someone knocked before he could open it. He did and Dan came flooding in with a large envelope in hand.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Louis, but I have information of the utmost importance."

"Can't it wait till the morning?" Louis said, head throbbing so bad he didn't hear himself speak.

"It's about Mr Styles- Take a look at this,” Dan said, whipping out the contents like an overzealous private detective. 

Louis tossed an eye at the pictures sceptically; Lo and behold, they were high-quality zoom-ups of a sweaty, sneakers-clad Harry on a bench talking to a woman in shades and a scarf. It looked like the same bench they had sat watching Nailee less than a week ago. But something about the Italian woman- Louis racked his brain- looked awfully familiar.

“Looks like he's been making friends with one _Miss Hailee Steinfeld_."

"Hailee Steinfeld?"- Louis only knew one Hailee - "Crystal's mother, Hailee?"

"Precisely," Dan urged him to take another look. "He was spotted chit-chatting with her at the park this morning by one of the chauffeurs and I ordered him to take pictures.” 

Louis looked at the photos again. She looked different. Yet Louis knew it was her when he thought about it. She had the same smug mouth and self-righteous posture. But what was she doing talking with Harry?

"How does he know her- when did he meet-?" Louis stopped and leaned on reason. Surely he must have just been simply making conversation with a woman he just met and couldn’t possibly know who she was. He told Dan so, but then the man pulled another picture from below. 

“That was this morning. This,” he pointed, “was yesterday.”

Louis’ mouth fell open. In this picture Hailee sat laughing and holding a chatty Nailee while Harry stood smiling down at them.

"From the looks of it, they had to have known each other quite a while,” Dan construed. “But that's not all; you know that popular _Romani Woman_?” he said with a perplexed frown. Dan was no fashion wiz.

“That fashion house Dianna’s working with for the new magazine?” Louis gave a _yeah-yeah-move-along_ nod.

Dan delivered. “-It's Miss Steinfeld's repertoire."

" _She's_ the head of that!?" Louis voice-boxed. But Dianna told me she spoke to a 'Miss Swift.'"

"According to my research it was relinquished to Miss Steinfeld’s ex-wife in their recent divorce proceedings."

Louis drew his brows closer. He knew Hailee was bi, she once tried to get another girl in the door one drunk night but Niall wasn't into it. 

"Miss Taylor Swift," Dan said. "The divorce was quite messy. Fifty million dollar settlement."

Louis' eyes widened but it wasn't because of the number. _"Taylor?"_ Louis remembered her, tall blonde, cute teeth, stumbling shoulder to shoulder with Hailee, both high as a kite, and Niall going off about what Hailee thought took him for… Louis remembered being the one slamming the door in the girls’ faces. 

_What in the scallywag has Dianna gone and gotten us into?_

Grabbing his aching head in instant regret, he was just about to summon Harry when –The _culprit_ appeared at the door.

"I was just going to help Marietta with dinner. Do you like olives?" he asked so flippantly, as though _olives_ can diffuse bombs and cure cancer.

"Harry, a moment please," Louis gestured him in as Dan threw a condemning eye on the young man.

He exchanged shrewd looks with Dan and asked; "Where did you go this morning?"

Harry froze mid door-closing. The look on his face was prevaricating, self-protecting.

"Have you been talking to Hailee Steinfeld?" Louis cut to the chase. He wasn't going to waste time dancing with Harry.

Turning white, Harry spilled everything. "At CastelSant’Angelo she came up to me, pulled me aside and told me to meet her at the park. I swear I didn’t know who she was at the time. She said she only wanted to see Nailee, said you wouldn't let her if she asked. She offered me money but I refused."

"And you didn't come to me!?" Louis felt like an arrow struck him in the heart.

"She said she was the boss of some news figure from a big Italian site, _Onsetter.Online.com_. Gary or something she said his name was." 

Louis had never heard of _Onsetter.Online.com_ , it being an Italian news site that came into existence after he went back to England but it figures since Harry was now saying it's Hailee's company. Louis guessed he should have kept tabs on Hailee over the years. She sure as hell had been keeping tabs on him. 

He looked to Dan for confirmation. The man nodded. "She built a Media and a fashion house. She now runs the website while Miss Swift is in control of the fashion business.”

Louis turned his head back to Harry. "Have you been working with her the whole time?" he was beside himself with anger and fear, his expression asking as far back as the hotel suite.

 _"No!"_ Harry emoted. "She said she’d set the Finch story straight and clear the company’s name. She promised to help make the scandal a thing of the past where the media is concerned. All she wants in return is to see her granddaughter."

Louis dry-laughed, his expression admonishing. "All this time I told myself your presence was innocuous. I trusted you with my family. Do you have the slightest clue the damage you caused?" 

Harry’s face was in full penitence. "I honestly didn't think it was that big a deal. I'm sorry."

"What if she had taken Nailee?” the interrogation went on. “Harry, are you that naïve to just how bad this is?"

Harry fell back slightly and shook his head. "I'll make up for it. Please don’t think I did it maliciously."

Louis was angry, but the innocent and truly remorseful expression Harry wore at the moment with his rolled up sleeves, all ready to make pizza, mollified his anger for the moment.

He turned to Dan. "Give me and Harry some privacy."

“Should I call the authorities, Sir?”

Harry let out a gasp.

His headache proving too heightened from frustration to orally refuse the offer, Louis held up a stopping hand with emphasis. Harry kept his head down as Dan glared at him on the way out.

“And Dan,” Louis caught strength to say, “Not a word about this to Crystal and the others."

Grabbing a seat at his desk as Dan nodded and left, Louis then steered his focus on Harry.

"Can I get you some water?" Harry said in a barely-there voice like he was looking for an excuse to leave his presence. He had a right to be. Louis was livid.

"If you swear you did not conspire with her,” Louis said, ignoring Harry’s offer, “then tell me everything. Start over from the beginning.”

Gulping, Harry told him the full story. From the intricate detail he gave, from the picture on his mantle to the mausoleum to meeting her in the park, Louis was certain the man did not leave out anything.

"Do you have any idea what that woman put us through?” Louis said roughly after hearing it. “Put Crystal through? Niall had to practically _mother_ the both of them. Do you know what it’s like to come home after a long day's work and see your best friend upset? Tears upon dried tears, like he'd been crying all day since you left?"

Harry shuddered at all the hand-thrusting and voice fluctuations. There was indefinite silence for seconds before Harry broke it.

"I made a mistake with Hailee but I swear if for one second I thought she would hurt Nailee I never would have done it.” There was a drifting off, then; “But you… You took Crystal from her mother. Her only living parent. Sure she had a drug problem but you left her to deal with it by herself. From what she told me you two were friends. You abandoned your friend and refused to let her see her own granddaughter."

Louis' face hardened. He shot up from his seat, slamming both fists on the desk, and causing the younger man to jump back a mile. 

"You betrayed me, Harry! After everything I've done for you. How dare you take Nailee out of this house without my permission and then have the nerve to judge me?!"

Harry's eyes moved to where the Flemish painting was leaning lengthwise on the wall beside couch, and he realized.

"You were in love with him weren't you?" he blurted out in recrimination. "I thought it was your pen pal _Harry_ , but it's not. It's Niall. You berated me for doing what I thought was right, but you took her away because you didn't want to let go of _Niall._ You still can't let go."

"That's it!" Louis snapped, flying around the desk and stamping up to Harry. "You know nothing about me and Niall! You say you're grown up, but you are nothing but an arrogant child. Don't ever let me hear his name out of your ungrateful mouth again!"

Harry was shaking all along, but grew large hurt eyes on hearing Louis speak of him like that -ungrateful? It was at that word Louis saw Harry break, or _build,_ a very large wall. And again Louis regretted it instantly. But as he ripped himself away from Louis' presence and dived out the door, slamming it, Louis knew it would take all the apologies in the world to fix it.

*

“I fear I don’t want to say goodnight, my love.” Dustin kissed her on the neck one more time, his arms embracing her hips possessively, her hair blowing onto his shoulder.

“I told you not to kiss me. Now you’ll pick up the flu.”

A naughty grin, he leaned in again. “I would catch anything if it means I stay in the presence of such beauty.” He drew in close to her lips and she turned his cap visor around to make room for the kiss.

"You've done enough today. Thank you for accompanying me, I know this is probably not your thing."

"Oh, trust me, fashion is my thing. I was elated to join you. I can't wait for the photoshoot."

There was a hacking clearing of the throat from the entrance, and it threw the lovebirds out of each other’s arms. Crystal wiped her mouth bashfully, now a foot apart from the man she had been seeing for days. Her eyes glided from him to the interrupter- Dan, who on seeing her in the arms of a strange suitor, was bloodless. 

“I need to have a word with you, Madam.” He said it to _her_ but glared at _him_.

Bidding Dustin a hurried goodnight, Crystal walked in and poured herself a drink. As she moved across the room, Dan laid shrewd eyes on her.

"Madam," he said, coming to stand in front of her as she sat in the Victorian chaise lounge. “We have to talk about Mr Styles. He's been lying to us this whole time," he said in a self-righteous tone. 

She looked at him, eyebrows drawn together in surprise and confusion. Her eyes widened as he told her what he knew about Louis’ time at the hotel Lamure. He was careful to leave out the new Hailee situation. "This can be very bad for the company,” he ended it with.

Before she had a chance to reply, heavily charged footsteps and sniffling were heard coming down the hallway from the direction of Louis’ study, and their eyes fell on Harry. He was clutching his biceps, body shaking, tears streaking down his face.

"We can ask him now he's here," Dan said, voice laced with contempt. He turned to Harry. "You think you have Mr. Tomlinson eating out of your hand? Seducing him at a hotel then showing up for a job? Are you blackmailing him? Wait till we get the authorities involved.”

Crystal backed up a second. "Now wait, Dan. Nobody's talking about the police here."

Dan was unsympathetic. "Surely he has a plan. Let's hear it- Cut the crocodile tears and tell us what you hoped to achieve here with this game of yours."

A sweaty hand to his mouth, Harry tried to fight back fresher tears that burst from his eyes and the lump that swelled in his throat.

On seeing the wretched state Harry was in, Crystal put down her glass and held her hands out. "Okay, let's get this whole thing cleared up. Dan, can you please leave so Harry and I can talk?"

“But the evidence is clear...” the man spat, reminiscent of the _Merchant of Venice_.

Crystal nodded abruptly. “I get that. Please give us the room.”

Eyes seedily turning to the direction of the terrace, Dan eventually shifted that way.

Crystal waited stoic-faced until Dan was a blur in her vision before rounding on Harry.

“Crystal, I am so sorry,” Harry cried, thinking Dan told her about the park.

"Why didn't you say anything about you and my uncle?" she asked, gesturing assertively to the seat beside her.

"He told you?" Harry gasped, thinking it was Louis she spoke of. She gestured again and he tentatively sat.

"Yeah, that you're a hooker and my uncle hired you for a weekend three years ago," Crystal articulated, assuming it was Dan he spoke of.

"Dan knows?" Harry asked in shock, putting her into perspective. From her demeanor he deduced that she did not yet know about Hailee and the park.

"Well, yeah he just told me-" she quickly assessed that it was Louis he had thought told her.

"Oh god" Harry covered his face with his hands. "We spent so much time in that hotel room, mostly talking. We never- Just like, kissing and stuff. When I took this job I was so shocked to see him again. We coursed through and scooped out all the awkwardness and resentment and old feelings got to a good place. But since we came to Rome, every week that passed by kept pouring back everything I felt that weekend. I _breathe_ him. _I can’t get him out of my system,"_ Harry emoted, head in his palms, before wiping his tears and raking his hair behind his ears.

Crystal stayed quiet after he spoke, both focused on the crackling fire.

"I never slept with him, but I want to, Crystal. I want to follow him wherever he goes. It doesn't matter to me if he's twice my age."

"Plus two years," Crystal timely interrupted with furrowed eyebrows. "He's twice your age plus an added two years."

"I don't care,” Harry dry-laughed and wiped his nose. “I've never met anyone like him. He’s the one who gave me the confidence to quit escorting and work harder for this job in the first place. I swear I didn't know who he was when we were in that hotel. I wanted to go out on a real date with him and get to know him but he never showed up. I thought he didn't want to be with me because my name is Harry, I mean, he had this _pen pal_ named Harry he was in love with and never got to meet. I came to Rome with you guys thinking I could get past it, make peace for the sake of my job. But I can't. I just want to bury myself in his arms. And I know I sound like a fool but I’m so tired of how I feel inside. I can’t control it."

"Oh god," Crystal whispered, slapping her lap. "You're _Harry_.”

Harry looked at her, baffled.

" _Harry_ isn't a real person," she explained. "At least he wasn't before. He was a notion. Uncle Louis had this strong belief that he was destined to be with someone named Harry. He spent years searching for his true love. This fortune teller told him he was destined to be with someone named Harry. But years went by and he hadn’t found him. Then Papa had the accident and Uncle Louis changed. He was never the same after Papa died. That had been the end of Harry. It was like he gave up on love. I barely remember all this as I was little but grandmama told me some years ago.”

Harry was stupefied. But it made sense in a weird way. The question he asked the girl on the bridge, the way he spoke about penpal Harry, the way he was all weirded out by Harry when he came to work at _IColorture_. It all made sense now. He must be so confused wondering if he- Harry- was _that_ Harry!

“I don't know what you make of this,” Crystal went on in a forewarning voice, “but from what you just told me, you are that Harry that he waited all those years for. That's the good news. The bad news is that patient, hopeful Uncle Louis is gone, replaced with this shell of a man who gave up finding love."

Harry did not want to believe that was true. He didn't just give up, because when he kissed him he had called out this other Harry's name not knowing the person he was kissing was named Harry. It was subconscious. He still loved the imaginary Harry. _Oh my God,_ it dawned on him, I _am_ his Harry.

He turned in even further on the chair to face her. "Tell me more about this Harry..."

"Not much to say, just- It sounds ridiculous but he really did believe in _Harry_. I was told he and my papa used to argue about Harry a lot, he thought uncle Louis was being unreasonable, but Uncle Louis always believed. He pushed it all aside after Papa's death. I guess there wasn't enough space in his heart for two heartbreaks. My Papa was his best friend.” She let out a heavy nostalgic sigh, the little flyaway hairs on the top of her hair matching the gaze in her eyes now. 

“You make the notion reality. Just you being here has to be breaking barriers somewhere inside him. He's got to be struggling with this, and I don't know if you are still interested in him after what I just said, but you my friend are a miracle on our doorstep."

*

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know those old movies where the starring couple have a conversation and they talk really fast and smart. That's what I pictured when I was writing Harry and Louis study scenes in this chapter, lol. Yeah please comment ton this chapter.
> 
> I am trying to make it so I post the next two chapters together, so please be a little patient for those updates.


	12. chapter eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Gonna let you guys read these two chapters but I will say I am sad that the fic is in the latter half. I don’t want this to end but at the same time I'm glad to share it with you guys and the feedback has been way beyond my expectations. So THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH.
> 
> Ok also forgive the fact that I don't know how the press works and I didn't do a shit of research in that department for these chapters, lol.

**_“Oh, the worst of all tragedies is not to die young, but to live until I am seventy-five and yet not ever truly to have lived.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr._ **

Louis woke up the next morning greeted by the social media headlines that his new spokesperson is an ex prostitute. His brain moving into high gear, he darted to his study and summoned his lawyer.

“Dan,” he said, his jaw set with the importance of the task at hand. “Make the call.”

He watched as the man dialed the number and spoke to the person on the other end. He hung up and gave an acute nod. 

They waited. It was time to do the one thing he had dreaded since he brought Crystal to England.

Harry bursting into the room with his laptop in the middle of Louis’ thoughts nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

“Louis, I swear I have no idea how she found out,” he shouted, turning the device to show the screen with the website headline: _‘Former Sex Worker is New IColorture Spokesperson.'_

“Because you told her," Dan spurted. "You’ve been working to discredit this business all along! We'll let the police deal with you!”

"Enough, Dan,” Louis said. "Bringing in the police will cause an even bigger scandal."

“But he’s been a liability to this company since he stepped foot in it.”

“I love this company. I would never do this.” Harry was close to tears as he dragged his hand over his forehead, his elbow poking out from under his rolled up flannel sleeve.

“I’m calling security to get you out of this house.” Dan pulled out his phone. Louis called out for him to cease but he did not listen. He just continued until the call was through and put his phone back in his coat.

Just as Louis was about to call him out on his disobedience, there was a knock on the door and Nick entered. 

“There’s a _Miss Seinfeld_ here to see you?”

“Where is Crystal?” Louis inquired.

“It’s six-thirty, she’s not up yet, “Nick looked at the other two men. “Something the matter?”

“No Nick. Let Miss Seinfeld in, will you,” Louis waited for Nick to leave, then said to Dan and Harry, “It's time we get to the bottom of this."

Hailee walked in- ruby red shoes showing up a navy blue dress with white donkey-eyed polka dots. Her lipstick was of equal vibrancy, and she wore a scarfed sunhat. Her face bore no lines that Louis recalled, but the puffy eyes gave away her fifty-three years.

"Hailee."

"Louis."

Harry skipped the formalities and started shaking the laptop at her in uproar. "How could you do this to me!?"

Hailee glanced at the headlines of her very own website and screeched.

"This is not my doing!"

"I made a legacy for your daughter," Louis tapped the table with his index angrily. "If you want her to have an empire to inherit you will stop trying to crumble it to dust!"

"Gregory must have done this without running it by me first. Trust me, had I known, it would not have reached an audience.”

She looked at Harry. “Is this true?”

Harry dropped his shoulders.

“Oh my god, it is,” Hailee said, folding her arms fancily. She turned to Louis. “Did you know about this?”

Louis began to fumble with his tie instead of replying.

Understanding, Hailee spoke again. “This is going to make _IColorture_ look very bad. Especially after the Finch thing.”

"You think?” Louis growled, not even bothering to ask the media mogul how she knew about that. “If the press back in England get a hold of this they'll say our company doesn't have a problem hiring young prostitutes, and they’ll glue the Finch scandal to us permanently!" he began pacing behind his desk. "You know what; fuck the Campaign! This is a disaster and I'm pulling it! Get Dianna in here!"

Harry grew offended. "There is a huge difference between child pornography, and an adult choosing of their own free will to exchange sex for money. The press won't have that comparison with Finch."

Louis shook his head woefully. "Oh, Harry, you have no idea how the media can twist things to make us look bad and discredit all my hard work to build this company!"

"Harry, you should have told me about your previous career," Hailee took a stylish seat on Louis' desk and punched in the knobs on her phone. “Trust me, Louis. One call and I’ll have this disappear."

"Trust you?" he looked at her as though no years divided them. "I know better than to trust you with anything I care about. Or don't you remember?"

~~ 

_The door opened and Louis didn't have to look at the silhouette entering to tell she was stoned. The waft of stale alcohol wrestled the air at the back of his nostrils making his eyes burn. Clumsy feet in clogs fumbled around the wooden flooring, the sound alone giving away the stupor. He had already been expecting it but tears still burned behind his eyes on knowing what it meant. that she didn’t care after all. that she was selfish as she always was. it was no surprise to Louis but he still felt the pain of what this would do to Crystal._

_"You got drunk in the wake? Really? Well, you know what's going to happen now, right?"_

_Hailee fixed him a stony glare and tossed her clogs off. She said nothing as she staggered across the room to take down a picture of Niall from the mantle. A picture Louis had been clutching to his chest and balling his lungs out to before she left for the wake earlier. Of Niall two years ago with stunning blonde hair and white sweater over ecru trousers, his body crouched in a squat with his hands propping to the sides. Big smile showing his slightly crooked teeth, a feature Louis cited as one of the things that made him fall so hard for the man in the beginning. Crystal’s little teeth were the exact copy of those endearing riders._

_"I can give that girl a better life,” Louis said, his eyes glancing down the hall to her bedroom door. “It’s what Niall asked me to do."_

_"I’ve been out thinking about what Niall would have wanted," Hailee put the picture back. "He would have wanted you to stay in Rome and accept him as your partner. But no. You had to run one last time. And when you did I was here. I took care of my daughter.” She stomped to Crystal's room._

_Louis bolted behind her. "All you did was push her out and then abandoned her!"_

_"No,” Hailee grumbled over her shoulder, eyes like dark opals, “That’s what you do. The only time I wasn’t there for her was when I was in rehab. You kept disappearing when Niall needed you- his soulmate.” The last word came out in a mocking poison._

_They stopped and looked into the room, the child sleeping soundly, a rainbow colored stuffed bear tucked under the covers with her._

_"Have you checked the garage yet?" Hailee whispered coldly to Louis as they stared at Crystal's breathing. "He bought a piano. While you were in Venice he'd been taking lessons and saving up to buy it to impress you. But of course you left again before he could tell you. He kept it in the living room for months until he told himself you weren't coming back. He just couldn't look at it anymore. If the world was fair, that piano is all you're entitled to take from this house and back to your mansion as a souvenir."_

_Louis’ hands boiled at his sides and his neck was a hot chimney._

_"I’m not going anywhere this time.” His voice broke into spirals. “Not without Crystal. I'm taking her back to England with me to make sure she has a good life far away from this," he motioned a disgusted gesture up and down Hailee's stature._

_"I know,” Hailee’s voice went flat, strong. “And I'm letting you. I know I have to let you take her, Louis. Niall was everything to her, but you? You are like her second dad. You were there when I was in rehab, and she loves you so much. I know I won’t be able to take care of her alone. So, please, take her. Take her away to your fancy mansion. I want my baby to have everything she ever dreamed of. Her papa is gone now and I can't get him back for her but I can give her this. It’s what he wanted."_

_She stood limp and weak with tears. Louis had to reach out and hold her. "Why? Why are you making me do this? Couldn't you try? Couldn't you just come home sober this one time, Hay?"_

_"I'm going to lose my twin soul tomorrow, Louis," she cried, swaying in his arms. "He loved you and he wanted to go with you. I won't be able to live with myself if I fight you on this. I need time to grieve on my own, deal with this alone. I don't want her to end up in an orphanage. Please take her far away from me.”_

~~

"You remember at all what you did to him? And instead of pulling yourself together for your daughter, you got drunk and high!" 

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Harry jumped in.

“A second chance, not a _tenth.”_

Hailee rolled her eyes and began speaking hotly in Italian. Harry and Dan watched helplessly as Louis' mouth dropped open and began spurting Italian in the same vain.

"sta 'zitto," Harry enunciated sharply ('shut up' in English), and they both stopped and looked at him. Louis squinted curiously at him. 

"I've been taking a few lessons from Marietta."

Louis fixed him with a torpid look. "That will be all, Harry," he said slightly above normal range but trying to maintain calm as he set his focus back to Hailee. 

"I'm not leaving," Harry replied. Dan snorted and opened the door for the security. He pointed a finger at Harry ruthlessly. The tall suit yanked Harry's arm to remove him, and Louis saw just in time.

"I'm sorry- Is that necessary?" he sternly asked the officer.

Dan whipped around. "Well, you requested that he exit the room, Sir!"

"I trust Mr Styles can make his own exit without being dragged out?"

"I'm staying!" Harry gritted, with wide steadfast eyes at Louis. He pulled away from the security officer and put the laptop on the table like he was _moving in._ "This concerns me too!”

Louis burst out at him. "You're damn right it concerns you, trying to run my company through the mud! You can consider yourself fired."

"Fired?" 

Dan gave a satisfied huff.

"That would be a grave mistake," Hailee said in Harry's defense.

But Harry's demeanor already fell ten feet. “I'll- I'll clean out my desk as soon as we get back."

Louis massaged his forehead. "No, Harry, I mean, from _Spokesperson,_ not Assistant Editor. You’re not fired from your original job."

Harry's spirits rose higher than necessary as he grinned in relief. Dan gave him a half-lidded glare and the grin disappeared.

"I was clean for months," Hailee cut in, addressing Louis on the previous subject. "I tried."

"Until you didn't," the man replied with a shrug, arms folded.

"I was grieving!"

"So was I!"

 _"And so was I,”_ came an additional voice, low and laced with heaviness. “Or have you both forgotten.”

Crystal...she had come in obviously from all the shouting.

"Mama," she said with a blank essence.

"Mi Angelita!" Hailee started crying.

Crystal set betrayed eyes on her uncle. "You told me she went to be with papa!"

Harry let out a not-so-quiet gasp, and Louis dared not look in his direction.

"I did that to protect you."

"And you...you let him." Crystal continued, eyes on her mother. "You never at least tried to get better for me?"

"I did try!" Hailee did not seem surprised that Louis declared her dead to her only daughter.

"It's been twenty-six years! You haven't tried to see me in all that time?"

"I check up on you all the time! I have a guy follow you and Nailee everywhere to make sure you are alright. It’s how I knew you were going to be in Rome.”

Louis took that as an admittance of guilt. "This is an outrage!"

“And how could you lie to Harry about who you were- Telling him your name was Taylor?” said Crystal.

“Oh please, I was honest with him from the start!”

Crystal was going to speak again but she halted. She looked at Harry, grave disbelief darkening her features. She did not have to speak for Louis to know how hurt she was at Harry’s betrayal.

And the water appearing in Harry’s eyes made the whole thing unbearable for Louis. 

“Crystal- I-” Harry tried but couldn’t find anything justifiable to say. 

Having no reason to come to his aid but feeling like it was necessary, Louis explained Harry’s side of the story as he was told last night, even the part about this Gary person from her website.

“Gregory,” Hailee corrected him which brought him to the article Gregory wrote on the site. Crystal took a quick look at it and exchanged looks with Harry. She did not seem surprised about the _sex worker_ tag.

“You see she’s trying to sabotage our company,” Louis couldn’t help but finish.

Forcing herself to leave that part for now, Crystal turned to her mother again. "So you rather send spies halfway across the world than come for yourself? And meet with a rookie employee to see Nailee than to just show up and simply ask my permission? Do you hate me that much, Mama?"

"No! Never!” Hailee cried.

Beginning to wonder how Crystal found out it was Hailee that her daughter and Harry had been meeting, Louis noticed something else. A red fabric dangling from her left hand. She noticed him looking at it and she lifted it.

"You gave Bernie to my daughter,” she explained to Hailee.

The older woman gasped. "You were so little, how do you even remember Bernie?"

"Oh come on, how could I forget Bernie, he's the only thing you ever gave me."

Hailee clasped her mouth, hiding her sobs.

"Besides, I know this is my ribbon. Papa used to tie them for me."

"I should have known that was Bernie," Louis reflected. He recalled in the months after he took Crystal to England her constantly asking if her Mama and Bernie were okay. She would always ask for them both like a pair. "You gave him to Hailee before we left Rome."

"So I wouldn't be too lonely," Hailee finished. "You put that ribbon around his neck so he could remember _you_." Hailee smiled at her.

She turned to Louis. "This is all your fault!" her eyes bore into him. "Mi hai portato via mia figlia!" She started yelling in Italian again and soon all three were quarrelling in the language.

"Maybe we should all sit and talk-" Harry tried to mediate the harangue- in English.

They turned to him and answered with a unanimous “Sta 'zitto!"

Dan snorted at Harry, and it sounded like a wild boar. Harry turned up his nose at the hoggish sound.

Crystal turned her attention once again on her mother, as if not believing what was in front of her. “Where have you been all this time? How did this start?" She gestured to the laptop on the desk.

"It started as an anonymous basement project," she said of the website. "Therapy for my drug addiction. It grew over time until it became the biggest gossip website in the country. It was out of my control," she held her chest and laughed. 

Soon she let the smile die down to say "There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t want to come see you. But Eleanor...”

“Wait- you met Eleanor?” Louis’ brows rushed downward.

Hailee nodded. “It was twenty-three years ago. I had just gotten completely clean again after you left Rome. It took me three years but when I did the first thing I did was buy a ticket to England. I showed up at the big double doors and Eleanor opened it. It was a sunny Wednesday so I figured Crystal was at school. I told her who I was and she told me to wait, shut the door then came back with a cheque for fifty thousand dollars and told me to never return. I wanted to contact you and ask directly but she said you knew and was on board with whatever she thought best. She said that Mi Angelita was happy and I should not confuse her," she turned to Crystal, "I took the money and left, expanded my business. It is because I took it that I felt ashamed to show up all these years. I was hoping to gently ease my way back through Nailee. Can you forgive me, Crystal? Your father is the one who named you, you know. Louis had just helped me give birth in the dark and your papa crusaded in with a flashlight,"- a sharp pain of grief hit him in the chest and Louis looked away- "He said when he pointed that flashlight down on you, he thought you were the prettiest, shiniest jewel.”

A tear fell to the floor from Crystal’s eye. She gazed at the ribbon, feeling the fabric.

Louis was seething. He had told Eleanor that Crystal’s mother was dead, as a finality. But now according to Hailee, they met? And what's more, Eleanor paid her to leave? It was a lot to take in, but the thing that bothered Louis the most was Eleanor’s dishonesty. In the past people Louis did business with would whisper to him about Eleanor’s demeanor. He’d tell them business was her niche, it's just that she had a resting bitch face, that she was really sweet underneath -not that he thought so himself- but to him it had been his duty as her husband to defend her and look out for her. If he had known a sober Hailee wanted to see her daughter at seven years old he would have permitted it and Hailee would have been in her life all these years. Sure she took the money and ran, that is true, but the least Eleanor could have done was tell Louis the woman had shown up. The fact that she kept it to herself all these years after everything Louis did for her, felt like utter betrayal. And now here Crystal was thinking he was the most horrible person in the world for lying to her about her mother all this time.

“I have no words for how betrayed I feel at the moment.” Crystal said after hearing all of it. She hit them all with dark, hurt glares. Something inside her reminded Louis of Niall after Hailee OD’d on her second birthday- Strong in the face of despair. “Here’s the deal,” she said to her uncle, stone faced. “Dianna’s campaign; we carry on as usual and say nothing of this meeting to her or Freddie."

“And what about Harry? I just fired him from,” he glanced at a fizzled Harry.

Crystal cut in sharply. “Harry is still the face.” She then turned to Harry without looking into his eyes. “Go let Dianna assist you in preparation for tomorrow’s shoot.”

Nodding like a wildman, Harry obediently backed out the door.

“As for you,” Crystal turned to her mother. “Bring your employee- Mr," - she glanced at the news article on Harry’s laptop screen- " _Gregory_ to the photoshoot tomorrow and get him to rewrite an article countering today’s headline. Then I will know where your loyalty truly lies and whether I should allow you back into my life.” 

Louis wanted to rebut. He wanted to throw Hailee out on her ass with no forgiveness for taking the money and leaving without coming directly to him all those years ago, but Crystal made it clear what was presently on the table. Plus Dianna had already signed the deal with the fashion house. Out of his love for her and his desire to immediately start making up for his part in things, he dared not override it. Niall always gave people the benefit of a doubt. Whatever trust issues Crystal had grown up with, she learned it from Louis, and he had to take responsibility up for that.

*

Later that night at _OnSetter_ headquarters, Hailee waited, determined to do as her daughter wished and take _IColorture_ out of the Finch circle. She heard the door twiddle. Looking up, she caught her breath when she saw who it was in the lookout glass. The door opened and shut again, and she closed her eyes in preparation for what she was about to say.

She heard a cough and looked up as he took his thumb and index to his chest pocket and whipped out his kerchief.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all day, Gregory.” After getting back from Louis’ estate, she was hoping to see her top employee, since he was the one single-handedly responsible for the article that ended her up in Louis’ office.

Sitting up straight as he sauntered over to her, she growled. “That story you ran this morning without running it by me first; I ought to fire you.”

“What? It’s good gossip! Twenty-six-year-old prostitute turned spokesmodel for _IColorture_ mag, the company that hired that pervert photographer? I got everything I needed, even from the press conference. You got it right in your lap first, Hay.” Not one to mix matters, Gregory could always be counted in for efficiency, and his panache made him the right choice for anchor. But now was no time for praising.

“Do you have any idea the legal problems your carelessness could have gotten me into? If Louis was a horrible man he’d have my head for this.”

Gregory gave her a confuffled look. This was the sort of story she usually liked. He thought she’d be happy to roast a disreputable executive.

“ _Louis?_ " he squinted his eyes. "You know the guy personally?”

“Yes, I do! He took care of my daughter."

 _Daughter?_ Hailee spoke with a tone that demanded instant understanding, and drilled in her orders. Gregory was used to that, but _this_? This he wasn’t familiar with, this new Hailee that had appeared the last few days. And he couldn’t picture her with a daughter let alone linked with the _IColorture_ mogul who hired a pedo photographer.

"And this article you posted can do me just as much harm as him. I need you to pull the article from the website.” 

A warping whiteness rose in Gregory's face, and he said in a low terrified voice, “But it’s already out there. There is no retracting now.”

“I don’t give a flying goose if it’s out there. Pull the damn article from our site! Give me one reason now why I should not fire you on the spot?” 

Hailee observed with bewilderment his sudden sweat and paleness. She knew he loved his job but he never seemed to be spooked by her before no matter how cruel she poured it.

He quickly sat down and cracked his knuckles in thought. He seemed to be coming to some self-decision. 

“Hey, listen, if it makes it better I didn’t get the dirt on Mr Styles all by myself. There is a source from inside Tomlinson’s own estate.”

“What!?” Hailee would never have thought Louis would let a traitor go undetected in his precious company. He was always so critical and wary of her and sceptical of all the Harrys he had met in the years that she had known him. "Who the hell is it!?"

“Anonymous tip. Give me a few days to find out who,” Gregory whispered conspiratorially. “Just don’t fire me yet,” he added lifting his bum off and waiting for a reply.

Hailee’s eyes went wild. “Don’t just stand here. Get on it!”

*

**Harry pov.**

That nigh at dinner Marietta served Italian style chicken with olives, and herbal potatoes and crusty bread. Louis had made Dan and Harry swear not to say a word to the others, but the tension between the three was evident.

“This looks good.” Louis tried to lighten up the table. “This is amazing, Marietta,” he complimented her on the chicken. 

"It was delightful." Dan gobbled down. "Amazing is not the word."

Dianna agreed. “You outdid yourself.”

“It is Harry who made it, Madam. I made the bread.”

Louis immediately stopped chewing. He locked eyes with Harry, who turned away when their eyes met.

Louis ate slower with his head down the rest of the meal.

“What’s the secret?” Nick asked, cutting it up.

Harry replied, “Red wine vinegar.”

"You ought to teach me something soon,” simpered Nick, taking another bite.

Harry let out a small giggle and Louis dropped his spoon in a loud clang.

Harry’s eyes flashed on his hands. He was concerned that his arthritis had flared up but after a quick accession he realized the man had acted on pure anger and maybe even jealousy. 

Harry looked at him and tried to put together what Crystal- who skipped dinner because she could not look at either of them at the moment- told him last night. If it meant what he thought it did, then he and Louis were meant to be together. But from the glares he had been getting from Louis and Dan since dinner started he knew it was a long shot to bring it up to the man any time soon.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "Mi hai portato via mia figlia!"-translation: "You took my daughter away from me!"
> 
> Curious as to hear you guys thoughts on this one.  
> If you're reading and you do fic recs can u rec this fic?


	13. Chapter twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Abuse triggers.

_**"If it's not making you better it's not love. True love makes you more of who you are, not less" ~Mandy Hale** _

It was the day of the photoshoot. The carpark and the gardens had been morphed to accommodate makeup artists and a handful of models from all over the country as they got ready to be photographed in the clothing and jewelry of _RomaniWoman_ alongside Harry to help make the pages of _IColorture Fashion_ magazine a success. 

From the car park, Louis watched Dianna hop around like a bunny, his skin crawling at the chaotic frenzy of it all. How he wanted to pack up and fly back to England pronto and forget this mess.

"She's turning your legacy into a bloody fashion house," Hailee said, clutching a scotch glass of club soda and lime in the afternoon heat of the garden as she watched Dianna survey Harry doing a leaning pose for the photographer against the lattice near the bougainvillea. “You can’t be over the roof for that.” She had snuck up on Louis, who scowled at her brazenness. He was no fan of Dianna's futuristic vision but who was Hailee to put her down.

Louis took a sip of the chambre wine he got from the kitchen stash. "It's fine. She is going to lead the company one day after I'm gone."

He had been staring at Harry, more like gawking at the indigenous inspired top and bell bottoms they put him in for the first round of photos. His face was lightly made up and his hair in a messy do to look like the wind had its way with it. It reminded Louis of the night on the beach before everything went haywire. Harry flashed one last smile for the camera before the break then flashed Louis a look of pure despondency as Dianna and the photographer, a slim black woman with a bouncy, cascading afro, spoke about the next look. Harry looked discouraged to ever talk to Louis again, and his heart fell. Louis wished he could mend what he broke the other night, or _break_ the wall that stood between them now.

He watched Dianna walk off, and saw the young photographer looking their way. Turning to Hailee when he realized the woman was looking at her, Louis saw Hailee wink at her suggestively. He opened his mouth to scuff but then Hailee spoke.

"And what about Crystal?" she sipped on her drink.

"Crystal will be here to guide her accordingly," he looked to where Crystal was taking notes. He was surprised Dustin hadn't arrived yet, he thought he heard Dianna say Crystal invited him. The young man had for some reason begun to grow on Louis and he found his absence destabilizing.

His eyes moved to Harry again. The man was fluttering his eyes away trying not to make Louis know he was staring at him.

"My daughter deserves more than to be a fucking lackey."

Louis finally ripped his gaze off Harry. "Of course she has an equal say. This is a family business, Hailee. You wouldn't know the first thing about family."

Hailee swelled with anger but didn't bother to retort.

"What’s up with you anyway, you ran a fashion house for god’s sake. And why are you even here, it doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

"I’m here for my daughter. And because even though you are being a prick, the agreement I made with your spokesmodel still holds," she said, following his refocused gaze on the young man. "Help me see my grandchild and I'll make all the Articus Finch buzz go away for good.” 

Louis had turned back to face her as she spoke and now his eyes floodlighted again for Harry, but he was already moving to the changing rooms. Louis had been so angry he bypassed the part where Harry told him Finch was the main cause for going into kahoots with Hailee in the first place. He knew one of the reasons Harry made a bargain like that had to be so he could have a chance with Louis free of his most voiced qualms. He thought it important to query how much Harry had voiced to Hailee.

“What exactly did he tell you?” 

"Enough to show he cares about the company.” She sipped again, unable to keep her face completely straight, her cheeks mounding. “It’s funny he shares the same name as your twin soul." -Louis didn't know why he was not expecting that.

"He would be too young, of course, but he seems to have a relentless devotion to you and the company," Hailee gibbered. "You don't give him enough credit. He means well. I like him."

Louis followed her fresh gaze to Harry again, who was now striding to the changing room.

"Yesterday you had a magazine taking bullets from the press about a freelance child pornographer. Today you have a bright spokesmodel with a strong stance on adult matters and consent laws. _OnSetter_ is the leading media house. Trust me, Finch is already a thing of the past. You're not the only one who cares about legacy. Crystal may be sharing with your pretend kiddies but maybe one day Nailee will want to try her hand as sole CEO of her grandmother's business… I’ve lost too much time with them." Sighing, she shoved her empty glass in his hand and turned her back to walk away.

Louis scoffed with an eye-roll as she slithered off into the mass of colorful models. The woman had gotten Harry mixed up in her quest to regain standing with her daughter. Louis couldn't help but feel like the company was using Harry too. Dianna said it herself, the new campaign would come in handy to distract from the Finch fiasco. For the sake of who was it okay for everyone to use Harry like this? He was supposed to be just an assistant editor. But like Hailee said, Harry wanted this. He wanted to help make Finch disappear from association with _IColorture_ , why he joined forces with Hailee to keep the company reputation safe. 

As he mulled over what it all meant, Louis began to feel even more remorseful for yelling at him the way he did.

Finally moving from the spot, Louis was about to go catch up and have a quick apology, only Dianna and the photographer were now walking over to Louis with Miss Swift, who had just arrived at the shoot. Bright red lipstick like Hailee’s and a sophisticated pink romper suit, with a perky abstract colorful jacket that just rested on her shoulders only, the only thing setting her apart from the brunette was her wavy blonde hairdo with a bang and tapered from above her haltered bust. She and Hailee both cleaned up their act nice over the years, Louis thought as she approached him with a fierce, vivacious smile.

"Taylor. Fashionably late, I see, no pun intended." Louis offered a brisk hand. The other two women let out small laughs, Dianna's hinted embarrassment- At the first name basis no doubt- she still had no idea he knew Taylor, must have even wondered who the woman was he was just talking to. Crystal, and Dan had agreed to sit her down after this shoot was over.

"Louis, I was elated when I heard you were in town," Taylor laughed, as though she and Louis knew each other way past his and Niall's threshold. "As soon as I heard Tomlinson I had to say yes to this deal. I'm glad to showcase my fashion in a magazine headed under your leadership."

The young photographer who looked like a model herself kept looking for a way in the conversation, and Taylor caught it.

"This is my wife, Oya," she gestured her hand to the woman's chest. "She's a photographer/ fragrance entrepreneur."

Taken aback by the surprise, Louis smiled and offered his hand. “So you’re the one responsible for the everyone smelling as wonderful as my flower garden.” By everyone he meant Harry.

Oya expressed how delighted she was with their choice of spokesperson, describing Harry as a 'photogenic breath of fresh air,' her head moving slowly for emphasis, like a beauty queen answering politically-based questions. Louis decided that he liked her easygoing, smiling nature.

After the little chit chat, Louis dashed away, still determined to have a word with Harry.

*****

He navigated to the shady side of the house where more of the same thick dark curtains they used for the press conference were lined everywhere. It was all so swishy and claustrophobic it was hard to tell where any room was and Louis hoped he didn't end up opening up one to an indecent model. He gave a quick inquiry to the makeup artist and the Italian man threw an annoyed wave at a partition in the curtains right behind him.

Blowing in relief, Louis ducked in and was left without gravity. Stunned eyes stared back from the owner, who was frozen on the spot in his underwear and about to grab his next modeling outfit. He jumped on the alarm of Louis' entering.

Louis gasped and quickly turned around to face the way he came in. But the picture was already plastered in his head; thick black Egyptian-style kohl around his eyes, and his hair although pretty much the same was doused in some kind of wet conditioner that made it look a few shades darker than its natural muddiest- blonde. And something about his skin was glowing. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. How completely rude of me," Louis stuttered. 

There was no sound behind him. He waited a couple seconds before stepping off.

"Wait." Harry said. Louis stopped. The sound of swift movements and ruffling clothing, then: "Okay, I'm decent."

Louis turned around slowly. Harry looked complete and iridescent in the jumper. Louis wondered what genius came up with the idea to have Harry rubbed down in a light shimmery body makeup and fitted him in the most perfectly tailored outfit. The thing accentuated every curve and bend of his physique. His face was so peaceful like a field of flowers woven between thick windy grass on a Summer's afternoon. He smelled so inviting and drew so much passionate heat, Louis could power-lift him by his thighs and fuck between them then and there.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day," Louis looked off into the dark abyss. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

"And I'm sorry for what I said about Niall," Harry sighed miserably. 

"It's okay," Louis turned to the side. Niall was a subject Louis seldom spoke of. He had only started saying more than one sentence about him with Harry since the office party. After Harry’s accusation he wondered if he had let his guard down too easily, the young man was so unafraid to speak his mind, but Louis had eventually come to the finding that what he had said was partially true, if not all. There was some part of him that had grasped onto whatever essence of Niall he could filter through raising Crystal, and it had come in the way of her own interest, what was best for her. But Louis was not ready to say this, admit this to the man that had brought it all to light out only by confronting him but by reintroducing Hailee into the picture of their lives.

There was an uncertain pause, as though Harry was deliberating whether to let the conversation diffuse for now or continue. 

"I know about Harry."

Louis' head turned sharp to face him but not looking him in the eyes.

“That he wasn’t just a pen pal,” Harry continued, voice low. “I know about the fortune teller. Crystal told me everything. I know you loved someone who wasn't there. Was told to look out for something that never happened...until now.”

Everything in Louis broke down just then. He shut his eyes hoping the tears would go back. How could she tell him that? Why? He was supposed to forget about twin soul Harry and let Harry go silently into a wonderful life with someone his own age and be happy for him without him ever knowing the secret pain he was in while doing it. This Harry was not supposed to know about that ridiculous episode of Louis' life.

"But what she didn't say was if Harry was supposed to be your soulmate or your twin soul."

"It's complicated. But either way it's not you. You're not him."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry’s voice was rickety. "I fell so hard for you in the span of two days. And even though nothing came off it I let myself fall for you again. Why do I feel like my heart is gonna rip out of my chest if you leave my life again? Did that fortune teller say he would love you this much?"

Louis gave up fighting the tears. "He wasn't real," he countered with a rickety growl at the end.

"Then why do I bear his name?"

"He never existed. Still doesn't exist."

"I exist."

"That you do. All _twenty-six years_ of you," Louis reminded himself. Hailee was right. There was no way this Harry was his twin soul if he was twenty-six years old. The fortune teller felt his presence and gave Louis his name ten years before this Harry was even born. Shaking his head in frustration, he told Harry the same. 

Harry moved closer. "You still can’t ignore that my name is Harry."

Louis began to sniffle loudly. He physically needed Harry to stop. But he grabbed Louis' right shoulder and pulled him around to face him. Harry stood there in his own tears, silent, hands gripping Louis' shoulders, yet as still as a lamp post, allowing the sight of his shimmering body to do all the talking for him. So beautiful.

"You're allowed to feel some type of way about that."

Harry came an inch closer and Louis sniffled louder, body weaker, eyes unable to look at him any longer for shame in looking upon his beauty. His head fell forward as he sobbed weakly, and their foreheads ended up merged.

Somewhere in the middle of it their hands touched and their fingers became tangled in one another's, left with right, right with left. Smiling, Louis raised them playfully. 

All Louis had been doing since Harry told him his name was feeling some type of way. Sometimes he was consumed with no way out of these feelings. He did not want Harry to think he was projecting resentment or, whatever he said the other day, on him.

"Harry was a stupid thing."

"It's not stupid to believe in something wonderful. And now that I know the part didn't belong to an actual person you actually communicated with I can fill that role for you."

Louis laughed. 

"I'm serious. What if I am him?"

"I just explained to you why you're not. You weren't born yet when she told me Harry was alive and somewhere close."

"Let's pretend. Right now. I'm Harry. What would you say to me? What would you say to the Harry you waited for so long?"

Louis blinked upward in thought. "Uh, I'd ask where the hell you've been, and what took you so long? And whether you've been dreaming about me all this time feeling the same lonely, longing feeling I have. If you had then I'd kiss you and-"

"And you know I have, so kiss me," Harry interrupted.

"I can't."

"This is pretend, okay. We're testing it out."

"You are a little manipulative one aren't you?"

Harry giggled.

"I'm not gonna kiss you. Employer/ employee, remember."

"Okay, fine." Harry frowned and let the quiet take over.

"You know you were pretty excited about this whole spokesmodel thing before," Louis broke the silence. "You don't look happy today."

"That's because you were mad at me. I can't function when you're mad. You put me out of sorts."

"Oh, I do?"

"Yeah." Harry shifted away to look in the mirror behind them. Eyes moving down his neck, Louis' stare led to the visible underwear lines that half-mooned his plump arse cheeks. He swallowed at the sight of the split made by his slightly spread legs. He was instantly hard by the sight, and wanted to press in and lick the shimmer on his neck. But it was not a good idea. Realizing the inside of his mouth was more wet than usual, he forced his eyes to look away.

"I’m just finding it hard to let myself be _She_ these days. Most of the time I want to wear a masculine suit so you'll know I take my job seriously. But I hate doing it when I’m her, because she’s so feminine and girly it feels wrong.”

Brow furrowing, Louis turned Harry around. "Have you met Crystal and Dianna? They are both feminine, and extremely serious women. Dianna and I don't always see eye to eye but I take her very seriously otherwise I wouldn't be here. What makes you think I would treat you any different if you wanted to be a she at the office?”

"Because," Harry hung his head low, "I'm Amab. And even though I love my masculine side, that means there are societal expectations of me in general. And in a corporate society like _IColorture_ I sometimes feel pressured to always show up that way, even when it's not who I want to be some days. And I know you say it doesn't matter to you but I am the only genderfluid person at _IColorture_ and I don't want to feel like a joke around all the other cis males. And with you in particular I'm trying so hard not to be that person from the hotel. That person you considered a 'getaway' of sorts from this," Harry gestured around them to emphasize Louis' business world. "Because I'm part of this now. It’s part of the reason I made that deal with Hailee. I wanted to prove myself to everyone, prove I belong here."

Louis heard a sniffle and lifted his head up with two fingers under his chin. "Harry, I would never judge you for wanting to be who you are. In my company and in my home you can be any gender you want whenever you want and I'd never take you for a joke. Niall and I didn't spend years giving people like us a medium and lobbying and writing about equality, for it to be any other way." He wiped Harry's tears with his thumbs, then the back of his hand, then his thumbs again. "I’m just sorry I made you so uncomfortable all this time. First of all- your pronouns, I don’t want to bypass you like that again."

"He/ him is fine for every day. No big deal," Harry shrugged sadly. "In my perfect world everyone would just know by seeing me but out here in the real world I don’t like broadcasting every single time, confusing and annoying people, and I’m personally not comfortable with _they/ them_."

"I won't be confused or annoyed. I will use whichever you prefer, don’t be ashamed."

"Really, it’s what I prefer. I let him take over for her in everyday situations."

"A bit toxic masculinity though,” Louis frowned, smoothing Harry’s hair.

“You call it that, I call it self preservation, Louis.”

“Well no. From now on there is no need for this self preservation here. What gender are you now?"

Harry burst into a blush. “Male,” he bit his lip. "Definitely got up in a male mood today, which is super ironic but...” Harry shrugged.

Louis smiled, lightly touching his chin, his fingertips delighting in the softness, looking at Harry like he had only just noticed him. "Are you sure you're up to this? You don't have to finish the shoot if you're uncomfortable."

"We talked about this. I want to do it."

Louis looked at the outfit again as if scared it would eat Harry up.

"Seriously, Louis." Harry leaned his head to the side. 

"Well then let me at least talk to Dianna and Oya. Maybe they can reconsider some of these outfits to suit your current mood."

"No it's not necessary. This is a gender neutral one. I like it," he fiddled with the suspenders.

"Are you sure? Because I can get them to try something more male if that’s what you want today.”

"No. Really. The last thing I want is for everyone to be walking on eggshells around me. The whole point of this for me is to show the world it's okay for someone born male to wear female clothes if they want to, and it'll be ridiculous and counterproductive for me to back out just because I'm not feeling feminine on the day of the shoot. I need to do this for _IColorture_ , and the _Herculean times."_

"But that to me sounds like the pinnacle of counterproductiveness. You should feel free to be whoever on whichever day and not be afraid to share _that_ with the world. I want you to feel comfortable with whichever gender you want to be any at point in time. As a matter of fact I want today to be the last day you ever feel like you have to conform- be it male in the office, or female in the magazine. As our first spokesmodel _and_ because of the nature of your job it's important that everyone at the company respects you. _All_ of you."

"It's only important to me that _you_ like me,” Harry said, voice suddenly low and teasing.

"Well that's a given," Louis smiled.

"Do you like _him_?" Harry playfully swung from side to side, hands in the pockets.

Louis smiled broader. "Yes. I like him very much." He realized he was smiling like an idiot and shut his mouth.

"You never kissed him, you know. You only kissed her. He just got most of the arguments."

Louis showed his teeth in a bemused laugh. "You are bloody sneaky, you know that?"

Harry grinned slyly. "If I kiss you would you allow it?"

"No." Louis’ palms oozed sweat.

The corners of Harry's mouth raised higher. "It's only fair."

Grasping that Harry was dead serious, Louis decided he was going cut this at the knees and put up the professional barrier. Gigantically difficult since the more he talked with him was the more he loved everything about him but that should be all the more reason to discourage him. 

"How about we play another game,” Louis said, his voice dropping to morbid depths. “Pretend you're a statue and don't move. Just stay there and look at me. Take a good hard look at the lines on my face. The grey areas. Don't say a word until you've gotten a good look."

Harry snorted and looked away, shaking his head. He then riveted his eyes to Louis again, perusing his entire face like a magnifying glass. "You mean this?" he ran his thumb over a patch of scruffy stubs. The gesture made Louis' face twitch and his eyes close. “And this?” Harry’s index then smoothed over his right cheek. “Newsflash, Louis: I've been this close to you before and I've seen it. I know these lines. I know these creases and grey areas. And I still want to kiss you.” Harry grazed loving eyes on his lips. 

It seemed Louis' plan had backfired. The game was having a reverse effect, the whole thing was intoxicating, drawing Harry further in.

They stood like that for a long time, or what seemed like that to Louis, staring into each other's eyes, and then Harry was moving his torso closer to Louis so that he ever so lightly bristled his jacket. His wet eyes never wavered from Louis' as he took his hand and traced it on the jumper material of his pelvis and upper thigh, careful not to let it touch his member. 

"Come to my room tonight,'' Harry whispered pleadingly. "We can talk about all of this."

And this had just become all too real to Louis. Letting his anger flow through his features, Louis dragged himself away from Harry. “What is it with you, you think you can just do as you please with me? I gave you the respect you deserve as a human being and as spokesperson for the company. Is it too much to ask that you treat me in a like manner?”

“What did I say?” Harry went in defense mode.

Louis shook his head pointedly as if to say ‘you know what.’

Harry scoffed. "What happened Louis? What was the real reason you didn't meet that Harry? Was it because you were busy _lusting_ over Niall? Are you really willing to let history repeat itself now even with him dead?"

Louis gave the dryest laugh, his anger sharpening at Harry's audacity. "You are just proving my point of how completely immature you are, but I can't really hold that against you, can I? Have to expect that with your _toddler_ age bracket.”

Harry scorched him with his eyes, something on the edge of his lips about to burst out but Louis hit him with gelid eyes before turning and walking out.

*

Observing a red faced Louis exit Harry's dressing room, Dan quickly crept to it.

He took a peek inside and saw that the young man in his colored asymmetrical jumper, and he was now hopping into his show sandals. Dan hid as he came gliding through the curtain to meet the other models. The makeup artist assessed him, and with a few minor touch-ups to his face, he was ready to go.

As he was about to exit the makeshift room, Dan jumped in and blocked his path. 

"How much?"

Eyes popping open, Harry stumbled backwards. "I don't understand-"

"I saw you with him, you whore. How much to make you disappear?" he rephrased, looking around to make sure no one heard.

Harry snorted a laugh and made it past him but he caught his arm. His receding hairline and bulky nose oozed tiny bulbs of sweat and Harry felt scorched by his glaring, dark eyes.

"It must be money you want?"

With a detesting look at the man’s gnarled hand, Harry yanked away his arm and strutted out into the second half of the photoshoot unfazed. 

Only, Harry was indeed inwardly brewing. The man had some nerve to impede and attempt to bribe him. But not only because of that; Harry was still angry with Louis for walking out on him in the dressing room.

*

"Today was a success,” Dianna raised a glass in the little after-shoot gathering on the front grounds. Her hair up in a fluffy pony-tail, she was wearing a mustard, striped suite with sharp peplum, giving the look her usual feminine flair. "Here's to new frontiers!"

"You look lovely today, dear," Dustin mused at his date. In a teal bias-cut skirt that draped to her shins and a loose pastel blue blouse with patterned scarf, Crystal grinned bashfully as they moved towards Hailee.

"Mama, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Dustin."

Not even noticing the woman before, Dustin choked on his drink. 

A minor gasp escaping, Hailee folded her arms scoldingly.

 _“...and over there is my big sis, Crystal,”_ Dianna’s voice carried and the gathering applauded.

Caught off guard as she rubbed Dustin's back concernedly, Crystal moved aside to curtsy and accept the accolades.

Seeing the introduction, Louis figured Crystal was not as angry as the day before, so he crept up to Hailee's side hoping Crystal at least talked to him.

"You treacherous rat," Hailee declared, making Louis' heart thump. He looked around, hoping the others did not notice the crazy outburst.

"Hailee," Dustin rasped. "I didn’t expect you to be here."

"And I told you to find out who the mole is, not date my daughter," she said louder. "How long have you been laying your grubby hands on my daughter?" 

"I had no idea she was your daughter until yesterday. We’ve been dating for a few days now during which time I got loads of intel about the family and the company."

 _"Wait, what?"_ Louis screeched, realizing he was not the treacherous one.

“Which part of that says you had to woo her?" Hailee howled a disgusted Hailee. People began to look their way. 

"Mama?" Crystal was back at Dustin's side, astonished by her mother's outburst.

Diverting from Louis and Hailee, Dustin clutched her hand. "Crystal there is something you must know. Can we talk in private?"

"You two know each other?" Crystal seemed to gather. 

"That’s just it. Your mother... She’s...my boss."

"Okay, you forecast the weather for my mother's company? That's quite a nice coincidence," Crystal laughed.

Hailee huffed. “I run a gossip site, Sweetheart, not a news channel!”

Dustin went ghastly pale. "Crystal, I don’t know how to say this...I'm not a weatherman," he said slowly. "My name isn't Dustin Becks... It's Gregory Hastings."

"Gregory!?" Dianna nearly shouted, exchanging looks with her brother. They both had come over to see what all the fuss was about.

"Gregory Hastings!? " Louis definitely shouted. “You're the one who wrote the article about Harry!?"

Crystal fought to understand. "You’ve been using me all this time, spying on _IColorture_?" Head in utter bewilderment, she turned to her mother. “Did you send him to sweep me off my feet and let my guard down?"

"What? I had no idea he was even straight," Hailee exclaimed.

Gregory’s mouth fell open. "Why? Because I like to be extra neat?"

"No, because you color-block!”

"I can't believe this," Crystal croaked, interrupting. "I trusted you. I'm so stupid for believing you. Both of you." 

Hailee clutched her chest. "Mi Angelita, surely you can trust me. I'm your Mama. I would never…"

Crystal laughed and Hailee paused. It was a cynical laugh that drew discomfiture for the three of them.

“I was cautious of you," Crystal told Gregory. "To introduce you to my daughter. But you had put me at great ease. Now I regret it.”

Harry and Oya concernedly walked up to the group and Louis noticed the woman's hip brush up against Hailee's side. With everyone so distracted she might have gotten away with it but then her arm slid around Hailee's waist and she did not move it.

"Crystal, dear, you probably already met Oya. She's-" Hailee began, but Louis cut across.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing to this poor girl, Hay!?” Louis' voice was grating. “Do you always go around trampling people's lives? Crystal's, and now Taylor's," He made a sharp gesture to where the two women were connected. "By god, she finally got rid of you and you do this!”

Harry gasped. "Oh no Louis, you don't understand," he began to say, eyes moving nervously to Oya who was smiling tautly.

Louis batted a hand. "Cut the crap, Harry. Why are you picking up for her? I know Oya is Taylor's wife."

"Actually, Louis, she's-" Hailee tried to say.

"See this is why I didn't want her in your life,'' Louis butted in again, turning to Crystal. "She's complicated. She messes everything up."

"Oya is my wife too," Hailee finally got in, sounding like she was about to cry, and Louis stopped so fast his soul nearly preceded his body. He looked at her and yeah her eyes were watery, finally a fraction of the tough Hailee she had been since walking into his office yesterday. "Legally she can only marry one of us. But the three of us are all committed to one another."

“It’s what I was trying to tell you, Louis,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

Everyone was shocked. 

Crystal shook her head woefully. "So you can commit to two women at the same time but you couldn't even bother to come see me?" 

Louis swallowed a painful lump seeing her so hurt. He made an effort to comfort her and she shrugged off, hitting him with a dreadful glare.

Shaking her head, Crystal let out a large sob and walked off. _Gregory_ began to dash after her but Louis stopped him with a grip on his jacket, shoving him back in place.

"Dustin, Gregory- whoever you are-” he pointed at the man’s nose, “stay the hell away from my daughter!"

"Louis, you're causing a scene," Harry’s voice shook. 

"I'm causing a scene?” Louis rounded on him. “These two came in here with their lies and deception and have done nothing but hurt my daughter and my company." Louis flung his index finger at Hailee and Gregory. “Even got you in their sick game!”

"This is neither the time or place," Harry told him in a low chastising voice, his demeanor sturdier than a half hour ago. "If you just listen to me for once."

"Listen to you?” Louis was beside himself with wrath. “Look what _you_ brought to my door!" his hand flinging to Hailee once more, "You're a bull in a goddamn China shop, Harry. I can't listen to you." Louis was out of patience. He was not going to be easy on Harry anymore. Not after what he pulled in the dressing room.

"Taylor!" a wee voice shouted from the terrace. Everyone's eyes turned to Marietta and Nailee standing unsuredly, came out to see what the commotion was all about. Then Nailee was running up to Hailee. "Taylor. You met my family!"

Louis darted eyes again at Hailee, who looked away.

"Did someone call me?" the real Taylor appeared, apparently unaware of the quarrel.

"Your name is Taylor too?” Nailee looked between the two. ”Then you two have something in common with my friend." She pointed at Hailee.

“I see,” Taylor gave Hailee a scolding look.

Hailee rolled her eyes at her. "What- you think I was about to live the latter half of my life never knowing my granddaughter!?"

Taylor covered her face in frustration but it was Oya who spoke. "Yes we know, darling, but there are ways to go about it. You can't be lying to people and expecting positive results." 

Louis did not have to pay much attention to her reasoning voice to know Oya was the most rational one in the relationship. Hearing the woman's words, Louis pierced Harry with his eyes. The young man caught it knowingly with shame and backed away silently.

Unapologetic despite Oya's words, Hailee noticed Louis glowering at Harry, and snapped. "Oh don't act like you're a saint, Louis. He lied to you for like what-five seconds? For years you told my child I was dead!"

Louis scuffed, taking Nailee’s hand and promptly walking off with an extra threatening glare at Gregory.

\--

As he poured himself a glass of wine from the console Marietta set up in the corner for the guests, Harry saw Louis' eyes roll from across the living room floor. He downed it, letting it sink in, and noticed the man now staring aghast at him. Louis looked away when their eyes caught and felt the rejection seep through his veins. _Great, so you can drink in the bloody a.m and I can’t even have one glass without you thinking I’m childish. Screw you Louis Tomlinson._

Deciding it was too crammed in there, Harry crept out to the pool area where some of the models were enjoying the ambiance. As he turned from the door he ended up bumping into none other than Crystal. A lit cigarette half used in between her fingers, the woman was less than happy to see him.

"Why didn't you tell me you took Nailee to see my mother?” She stepped forward in her vintage winter boots, ones that gave her an authoritative air, instantly reminding Harry of Hailee. “I told you things about Uncle Louis. Private family things," she waved the cigarette and took a smoke, blowing it out to the pool. "That’s how comfortable I was with you. How could you listen to all that and not tell me you met my mother?" 

Harry squinted from the smoke. Up close, he noticed the wet smear of her mascara, and deduced that she was extremely upset. He had never seen her in such a state. Coming to Rome and integrating himself so much in their lives that he made a blooper so big was not what he wanted at all. At first he tried so hard to make as little splash as possible and now… Now he was beginning to wonder if he should have sided with Louis at the general meeting.

"She was intimidating but she seemed genuine," Harry blurted out, sounding more stupid with every word. "I was selfish and I made an error in judgement."

"I'm disappointed in you," she sneered and walked off.

Hot tears creeping up the back of his eyes, he turned back into the house to look for wine again, and bumped into something. Someone. It was Freddie. He was seething.

"First you worm your way into my family’s company, then you make yourself the face of it, now you wanna disgrace it with these disgusting headlines?” he gestured with his IPhone. “Not gonna happen, slum rat. _I have my eyes on you._ "

Already dealing with shit, an angry, wine-mouthed Harry leaned closer to his face. "Well in that case, enjoy the view," he quipped flatly before turning the other way and walking off.

*

**Louis pov**

Louis moved uncomfortably past the small group of models, hoping to escape into the garden. It was dark out now and he needed to get away from all the chortling and murmuring and socializing. It all too reminded him of the deceitful Eleanor. He had not yet thought up the things he wanted to say to her when the chance arose, since some of what was happening now was her fault. All that kept going through his head was how different things would have been if she had only contacted him the moment Hailee arrived at their doorstep. But Louis knew it was his fault for painting such an ugly picture of Crystal's mother that Eleanor thought it best to get rid of her at once. Louis had told her the woman was dead and her showing up very much alive must have spooked her. She must have seen her presence as a threat to her makeshift family life. She must have searched her own lies with Sebastian and inwardly forgiven Louis for the lie and thought she’d take care of it herself. Still, Louis was resentful at the outcome of her actions. Because now Crystal hated _him_.

Everyone was chatting about what Louis hoped was the new magazine plans; Dianna and Crystal, Harry and Oya, Freddie with his chin high and churlish, Nick in the middle of everyone, his hawked eyes roving around as usual...

“You were extemporaneous," he heard the photographer saying to Harry as he passed. The main person he needed to avoid now. The one whose recklessness caused Hailee to reappear in the first place. The one who confessed his love for him yet again. The one who couldn’t take no for an answer. Louis fought like hell to get thoughts of the dressing room out of his head. The way his collar bone accentuated his hip bone. The feel of his hip bone, the tempting sound of his voice inviting him to his room... _Clank!_ Went the empty glass back down on a waiting tray, hard. Louis had to shake himself out of it.

He sat alone on the stone seating for a while listening to the sounds grow smaller as more people left, before getting up to find a drink.

As he poured himself a scotch from the console he heard a hush to his right. The group started murmuring. It was not a bubbly murmur but quiet ones.

He looked through some heads and his skeleton nearly jumped out of his suit. There was a reporter holding a recording device up to Harry’s face and nodding as Harry took a large drink of his glass, swallowed, and prepared to speak. Oya sat next to him in a supportive manner nodding in encouragement. Why was Harry giving unauthorized interviews in the middle of a private party? He had been forgiven for his mendacity and then he goes and does this?

“Yes, I was a prostitute but I quit the first day on the job,” Harry said in a slight slobber. The slurry speech quickly sobered up as he went along. “I was in the middle of my first session with this _charming_ man, when he saved my life that night. He told me I was worth more than that. He convinced me to make that my last day on that job and pursue the job I really wanted, which is an editor at the company I now work at. I come from a muddled background but I am the right choice for spokesperson. I know what it’s like to be out there fearing being bullied, being judged. I used to crawl under my bed with my favorite magazine. Get lost in it for a while, hoping one day I could see the places on its pages, and have my name on the fine print below next to ‘editor.’ I’m here because of those pages and because I was able to meet a charming man," he threw Louis an astute glance, "who is the reason I can now see Italy and have my name not only be editor on the fine print of my favorite magazine but also grace the cover. If you want something to judge, judge that.”

Louis nearly fainted. Harry was not even being discreet. Not even playing the pronoun game. Everyone heard it was a ‘him’ he spoke of with such admiration. 

Louis spared Dianna and Freddie a glance; both their mouths were dropped low, though he couldn't tell if they suspected it was him Harry was referring to. Crystal’s eyes seemed to release some of the resentment they had earlier. She looked in Louis’ direction and saw beyond the appreciation beyond the fear. She saw how humbled he was that Harry was this grateful to him for his new life.

“Huh,” went Hailee, who was on the other side of Louis. He looked at her and she looked back up at him with a smirk, the meaning in it needing no voice.

But the tender moment was over. A scuffle quickly ensued as Nick and Gregory tried to grab the recorder from the man. The paparazzo fought to defend himself by elbowing them and caused Nick to get poked in the nipple. Louis rushed forward, pulling a yelping Nick off the man, while Hailee ran to a raging Gregory's side to stop him from ruffing the short man. They all watched as the reporter ran away from the scene with his recorder intact. Dan ran into the dark behind him, yelling at the security outside calling them ‘lazy bastards!’ as the paparazzo dived through the gates and disappeared. 

And amid a fresh slew of whispers at him, Harry ran in the direction of his room sobbing, Oya giving Taylor her purse and taking off behind him.

*

**Louis pov**

_Bang Bang Bang Bang!!!_

Louis flew out of bed like a startled cat and rushed through the dark to his bedroom door.

He opened it up to the halfway light and sighed. Harry stood staggered on the spot, a pathetic look on his face with a glaze under his eyes like he had been crying.

“Harry, it’s bloody three in the morning. What in the marbles is the problem?” He eyed Harry’s long white cotton pants and not-so-loose white Tee.

“You opened your heart again. You made yourself vulnerable to me in that hotel.” Harry was panting and slurring and pointing unfocused at Louis' chest where his sleeper buttons were open. Louis guessed this was some kind of Pot Valor continuation of their earlier conversation in the dressing room, but after the ‘interview’ he thought Harry would be asleep by now. Oya had spent a good hour consoling him while Louis and Hailee stood by the door listening to him sobbing loud enough to wake the whole house.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but Niall is dead now and I’m here. You don't have Niall. But you have me."

“Harry.” Louis was not mad he was bringing up Niall again, he was just tired of it. He was tired of wanting to say yes to Harry. Because _no_ , it wasn't right.

“I know Niall hated that you waited for Harry. And you’re angry you lost him. But he would want you- to be happy.”

Not in the mood for another round, Louis made an attempt to throw Harry out.

Harry was frantic. "No! You are not pushing me away." He made a beeline around Louis, eyes darting all over the place and landing on the bed. He turned his back on the bed to face Louis again. "So I'm not your Harry, but I am a real person who wants to be with you. And it doesn't matter if I'm not your soulmate or whatever because I don't want to be. I don't want to be someone who caused you pain. I want to make you happy. You can have happiness with me." 

Grabbing Louis’ face, he planted a kiss on Louis’ lips, the elbowing Louis' chest hard from both sides. Locking his lips together to shut out Harry’s tongue, Louis tried to pull away.

"Harry, you're drunk. Please calm dow," Louis said to the distraught man, taking hold of his wrists to free himself.

"I want you," Harry croaked. He clasped Louis' fingers and squeezed them lovingly. Tenderly. "Am I wrong to love you, Louis? You really think we're wrong?" Harry thrust his pelvis into Louis and shoved his head into his neck, forcibly sucking on it. 

Louis pulled away from the touch like a fly rejecting a rosy ripe peach that had fallen to the ground and busted its pulp open. The thing was torture but Harry just got right in again with more kisses and pecks to his lips, neck and collarbone, forcing Louis’ eyes closed in utter weakness.

"Harry, come on. Please. You're not in the right frame of mind," Louis was saying to keep from humming in pleasure as he kept stepping backwards as Harry advanced.

"Will you take me seriously if I'm sober? Because I'll come back when I am." Harry stopped chasing him, tears flowing from his eyes. He looked below Louis’ waist and seemed to catch on that Louis was in torture. He then moved in again, grinding his front into Louis' crotch. It was sudden and Louis was all out of room to back up. His back dug into his dresser and he gripped the edges for balance as the younger man kissed him again with full force.

Harry’s warm skin was everywhere. It all felt right. Louis melted in the sweet heat of it and let him inch closer. He felt the want coming from the younger man. The verge of bliss they could have if he gave in.

Not thinking, he shoved his lips further into Harry's, kissing him back hard. It was a long worked kiss, one that erased the twenty-eight years between them in as many seconds. 

Harry sank into Louis' embrace as his hands came to hold his face. Then...

Harry jolted back.

Void of the pair of soft lips now, Louis watched as Harry looked down at himself; a large wet spot had squirted through his pants as he had untimely come from grinding on Louis.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." Harry cried as he looked every which way while holding his hair back with both hands. 

With his right hand Louis took his waist and pulled him in again, pressing his left hand on his back to bring him closer to his shoulder. 

"It's okay, Harry. It happens to all of us."

"No. I'm a whore, just like Dan said. I need to go."

Louis swiveled downwards to look into his eyes. "What?” The man’s eyes were wet and underneath was rising like a cushion as he pulled away from Louis. “Hey- come here, come here."

Louis wrapped his arms around him and Harry started crying in loud yapping wails, face in his chest.

Louis held him steadily. "What is this about Dan?"

"He offered to pay me to leave," Harry mumbled almost incoherently into his shirt. "I didn't take it, but he's right. I'm throwing myself at you and making a fool of myself."

Louis hands cupped his cheeks and looked at him again, rubbing his thumb around the skin. The rush of emotion going through Louis at that moment, he had to; he couldn't help it, he reached and pressed a kiss to his hot forehead. It was burning with stress. He then led him to the bed and made him lie down. The younger man complied, sobbing and scratching his head. Louis put on the fan to lightly blow on Harry and grabbed his blanket, sliding his legs in next to him and covering them both. He brushed the back of his left hand on Harry's left cheek. The younger man turned on his right side with his back to Louis, allowing Louis to spoon him. Louis scrunched up closer to him, resting his head near the man's hair, his nose against the wine/shampoo smell. 

"You want someone more mature who wouldn't hurt your family and disappoint you," Harry said in an intoxicated wail. "You were right. I'm a baby. Look at me. I have nothing you want. Just a fucking cry baby." 

_"Sh._ Stop it, now. You're not a baby, Harry. You're a good person. You made your dreams come true. You're none of the things Dan said, or I said." Louis spoke softly until the loud crying turned to sniffling.

“But you were right. I am ungrateful. You’re the first man to treat me with respect. My first boyfriend, he hated that I was fluid. He'd take advantage of me whenever I transitioned and he never took _her_ out. He never supported me in anything. He made it so difficult for me to express myself. He made me feel ashamed of myself. He’d put on this sweet act for my parents and then go right back to treating me like dirt when they weren't around. He made all the progress I made after joining my support group relapse- except the suicidal thoughts turned into me thinking I couldn't do any better. It took me so much strength to break up with him but when I did he claimed credit and told everyone he dumped me because I was crazy. And my second stupid excuse for a boyfriend just lied to me the whole time.

"You were so sweet to me in the hotel room, Louis. You told me I was special. You were patient and kind, and today you made me feel so comfortable with myself. And why wouldn’t I want that? Why wouldn’t I wanna be with a man who talks to me and shares the same interests and is a total gentleman? I’m annoying and irrational and obnoxious, but I know what I want. You may think I’m too young for you, but you are _not_ too old for me. You’re perfect for me.”

There was a significant pause in which all that was heard was the faint noise of crickets and frogs harmonizing outside and Marietta lightly humming out in the hall.

“I betrayed you. I wanted to please you and just wanted more than I deserved and I didn’t think. So yeah, I was being ungrateful to the kindness you showed me.”

Louis stayed quiet as the man’s voice faded, and stroked his hair. Soon the inebriated man fell asleep beside him. He bristled with anger thinking how anyone in God's green earth could have Harry’s heart and hurt him like that. Who would dare look at Harry, hear his laugh, be showered with his smile and have his devotion all to themselves and then abuse him that way? Only a monster.

Louis listened to his evened out breaths. He thought of everything Harry said from the day of the press conference to just now, and figured he was now the object of Harry's devotion. A beautiful thing, as he secretly lived for the way Harry looked at him on mornings and those secret glances during meetings when no one was looking. He was his Harry. He was everything Louis dreamed he'd be and so much more, at least in his heart. Because in his head, if he went by anything Niall said about Ruhina’s words, then it would be impossible.

He thought of everything Harry told him in the dressing room, he thought of how frustrating it must be for Harry thinking Louis didn’t want him - "I do want you," he whispered. "I want to make love to you until you're loose." He thought of the young, beautiful mess before him - "But I can't.” 

_‘...This charming man...saved my life that night_ ..., _saved my life that night..._ Louis let the words roll on like a tape in his head. How he was so wrong. He wasn’t the villain in the story. He was the savior. Harry’s savior. Louis- or rather the _Herculean times_ \- saved Harry from suicide and then yet again because of what he said to Harry at the hotel he found the strength to really go after the job he wanted. A job that brought him back to Louis. There were no words for how that made Louis feel. All he wanted to do was scoop Harry up and take him somewhere no one would ever hurt him again.

His mind spun with the impossibilities of a match like theirs, the logistics they would need to come up with. No matter how hard they might try, people would never understand how Harry could love someone twenty-eight years older than him. It would not be fair to Harry to have to explain and defend his choice all the time. So Louis decided to keep his feelings to himself, and even though it broke his heart, he had to save Harry again.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted dig deeper into Harry's gender identity as it pertains to the story as a whole so I decided to add it there. I hope I do not offend any of my genderfluid readers in any way by any wrong portrayals, I tried to capture some things I learned from genderfluid people on Youtube (I learn so much from YT.) if anyone is offended or something is off let me know. I felt like this aspect of Harry was neglected in the previous chapters and idk bout you guys but I really wanted to give Louis another stellar quality for Harry's breakdown. 
> 
> The next chapter (My favorite chapter) will be posted in roughly 48 hours. It is a long chapter that will mark a significant turn in the story so I cannot wait to share that one. Thanks so much for your patience!


	14. Chapter thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings- death, grief, storms (it's not funny some people have astraphobia from experiences.)

**_~”Souls tend to go back to who feels like home”~ NR Heart_ **

“We have a problem.” Dan wormed in the next morning and took his usual seat, twisted around on the edge of Louis’ study desk.

Louis dragged his palms down the contours of his face. Every morning since making Harry the face of _IColorture_ fashion, Louis seemed to be waking up to a new problem. Only he was not in Louis' bed when he woke up. And the side where he had fallen asleep had been made up, the only trace of him stale alcohol and shampoo smells on the pillow.

“Seems your spokesperson has done nothing but make matters worse since his little speech last evening.”

Dan hovered his Tablet, showing Louis the screen. Louis looked at the video posted by a local gossip site- _“Yes, I was a prostitute,”_ Harry said in the video clip, which timely cut at that exact moment, leaving out the subsequent: _“but I quit the first day”_ and the rest of the heartfelt speech.

Louis sighed. But he really couldn’t be mad at Harry right now. Not after seeing how much all of this _IColorture_ madness was affecting him. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for giving Harry the courage to pursue a dream that took him straight into a company of chaos.

“The rat should have kept his wine-breathed mouth shut,” Dan went on, and Louis remembered Harry’s words. He understood Dan’s point. It was an inebriated speech, but evermore do the drunk speak the truth. And Harry’s truth was touching.

"I think we should give Harry a break. I know what he’s done is inexcusable but we're being too hard on him. He obviously cares a lot about the magazine."

"But how did he jump from assistant editor to spokesperson!? I'll tell you why-" Dan didn't wait. "-He's a social climber! These types use those of a certain class, and devour anyone who stands in their way."

"Dan, enough!" Louis couldn't take another nauseating second of this discrimination against Harry's character. And by Dan, of all people. Dan, his attorney and advisor for many years. Louis knew he couldn't have Harry for himself but he wanted him in the company for however long he wanted to stay. Louis hoped it was long term. He would put avenues and opportunities in front of the young man to make it so.

"Dan, your job is to help make this company marketable to the world. Make sure everyone at _IColorture_ mag has a job in future years despite the changing world. That includes Harry. We will stop attacking the people who are part of the team. Do I make myself clear?"

"As day," Dan muttered grudgingly.

*

**Harry pov**

There was a knock on the bedroom door. A sunken Harry opened it and walked away before turning back around to face Louis, who entered and closed it behind him. Harry's head was spinning and he saw three of him come in, but he was happy for the freshly showered awakening cologne scent he brought with him.

"How are we this morning? I saw you got up early, considering the night you had."

"Hm," Harry replied, sitting on the bed, not looking at Louis. It was embarrassing waking up with a smashing headache and smelling like a stale pissy drunk in the satiny king bed of the man you're trying to win over. He had taken a shower and downed a teacup of coffee but the effects were still vrooming in his head. The swallows at the window were chirping up a storm and making his head spin more. 

"So I have good news and bad news,” said Louis, batting away the birds from the flower shoot. “Which would you prefer first?” There was a slight change in his tone that said he wasn’t as angry as before.

“Bad,” Harry said with a long sigh.

“Well the press totally spun your speech to suit themselves and the majority are only posting the first sentence of it," he played it for him on his iPad. “See, this is why you need media training. That should have been _‘I was hired as,'_ not _‘I was.’_ ”

Harry groaned, falling back on the bed and covering his face. He should have kept quiet like Nick urged him to.

“But some, including Hailee's site, at least have the whole speech posted,” Louis said to cushion the blow.

“That doesn’t make me feel better. Was that the good news?”

“Not all of it, actually," the older man said, the fine lines on the sides of his mouth rigid with stress. "I talked to Dan and sorted this whole name-calling thing out."

Harry sat up and crossed his hands on his chest, smiling pointedly.

"I made it clear to him that the way it looked at the photoshoot was not the case. I assured him but it will be hard getting him in your corner after," Louis paused with a strain in his tone. “Promise me you will never do anything like what you did with Hailee again. Promise me you won’t assume what’s best for my business. I am the head of this family and this company and nothing happens to put them at risk, you understand?”

Harry swallowed. There was a stark surety in the man’s eyes, stern and uncompromising, and Harry sensed he had been waiting for him to be completely sober to say it. There was a determination in having Harry’s word to never be so reckless with the people he loved again. Harry saw again how much the man loved his family. If he wasn’t so ashamed at what he had done, he would have thought it flattering that the man still saw him worth pardoning enough to bid him a mere warning. Someone else might have made sure he spent time behind bars. Someone like Dan Wootton. But Louis was a good man. 

He nodded earnestly. “I promise.”

Harry let his conversation with Crystal playback in his head again. Was he really his Harry come true? Could Louis love him half as much as that to wait for him? Harry's heart was overwhelmed with pangs of eagerness to be whichever 'Harry' Louis loved. But he knew he had crossed the line in so many ways, and even though Louis was merciful, his trust in Harry was tainted.

"I should resign. I don't think it right to stay after everything I've done."

"Don't be ridiculous. Your job is essential right now. Again, I'm sorry for the way Dan chastised you."

"He was only looking out for you. Protecting you from the 'cheap whore.'"

The older man frowned at him. "Harry, you have a kind heart. You're driven towards your goals. I know you made a mistake but your intentions are good."

“I came on to you last night.”

“You were drunk. Your mind wasn’t clear. We both acted frivolously.”

"I wasn't drunk in the dressing room." 

Louis did not reply to that one, and they both thawed in the quiet for a while.

"Can you ever see yourself with someone like me?” Harry cut it with a sarcastic laugh. “Like in a relationship?"

"Harry, I told you, you are too young for me.”

"That's bull. I wasn’t too young for you when you made plans to see me again!"

Louis’ stuttered. "I-I-I was going through something. I-"

“I get it. You had a whim. A midlife crisis, but it was more than that for me. I was looking forward to that movie. To a real date with you. To get to know you. I imagined you to be a really normal guy who likes sloppy joes and orange soda. When we agreed to meet I went home and didn't sleep that night. - that whole week- because I was so anxious to meet you again. To know your name..." Harry was crying now.

Louis made a move to speak but Harry held his hand up to stop him. "I got my friend over and I told him all about you. He was annoyed you were all I talked about. He went with me to get a new outfit cause' I wanted to look special for you. I really liked you, Louis. The stupid part is that I still do." 

Harry was beyond angry wondering why he had to suffer for what Finch did.

"There are twenty-eight years between us."

“I’m an adult. I’ve been an adult for eight years now, and I know that may seem minuscule to you in your big fat head but I am able to keep up with you."

He saw Louis’ Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. The man’s eyes turned pink with something Harry could only place with pain.

Louis shifted his hip to leave. “If your hangover is cured, you have work to do for the magazine campaign. We have no weekends off so I suggest you get on it.”

“That’s not all I want to get on,” Harry mumbled. 

“Harry!” Louis spun to face him again.

“Won’t you at least try to see yourself happy?” Harry begged.

“I did!” Louis shouted and Harry heard a swallow scuttle away from the window pane. “I did try. Me meeting you at that hotel was me trying- to have a life. But Harry, I can’t pretend I’m a twenty-year-old and go running off into the sun with you. I have responsibilities.”

The word _responsibilities_ was a trigger for Harry. All kinds of thoughts popped up in his head about the future like cooking for the man and washing his clothes so he wouldn't have to strain his hands anymore, warming his bed, pulling his weight at the magazine... 

“I want to share them with you.”

“You have no idea how much I wanted to jump out the limo and run to you and…” Louis' eyes burned red and his voice laced with rasping pain. “God, I was so happy in that hotel. Don’t you think I walk around with a humongous dagger in my heart? What did you think, we’d be one big happy family; a bunch of twenty-something-year-olds and a grandpa? 'And oh get this- one of them isn’t his kid, he’s his _husband_.'- That’d be a story.”

Overwhelmed with emotions, Louis abandoned the conversation and rushed for the door. Dashing after him, Harry jumped in front of him and slammed himself back-first into the door.

“Get out of the way.”

“You just mentioned me and the word _husband_ in the same sentence,” –He watched Louis close his eyes- “Is that how you think of me?”

“Get out of the fucking way.”

“Not until you tell me. Please, Louis, just say it. Say you want me in your life.”

Rage taking over, Louis yanked Harry by the arm, swinging him around and throwing him back on the bed. Growling in vexation, Harry jumped up and grabbed Louis’ belt harnessed just above his buttocks as he turned around to leave. Shuffling around again in irritation, Louis gripped his wrists and tripped on top of him on the bed. He ended up securing Harry’s hands over his head, his breath gusting over his face. Panting heavily against his lips, Harry reveled in Louis taking in his features from this close.

“This ends today,” Louis said, unable to detach his fiery eyes from Harry’s big angry green ones.

Harry did not move. His eyes covered Louis’ features just the same, landing on his lips. And instead of stealing a kiss, like Louis was certain he was about to do, Harry whispered; “Tell that to your hard on.”

Slowly, his cheeks brushed with pink, Louis dismounted straight off the bed and backed all the way to the door, Harry’s eyes still on him and his on Harry’s.

He fumbled for the doorknob.

“You say you’re trying not to be that person from The Lamure," he said stonily as he opened the door without looking back at a teary Harry. “Try harder.”

“Maybe I should leave after all. Make it easier for you.”

"Leaving now would be catastrophic for the company you say you’re loyal to. I advise that you stay and do your job, no more than that. Now I have to go see if I can clean up the mess you and Hailee made." Louis walked out the door, swinging it to shut hard behind him.

Harry lay there breathing deep, somehow still feeling the man’s warm breath on his face and his sturdy body pressed into him. Louis did not want him to leave… His mind went back to the night before, laying in his arms in his bed with his warmth and his voice to fall asleep to. The things Louis said to him… Being close to the older man set off a fire in him. Harry did not know why he always lost himself when around Louis and why he kept saying and doing the wrong things. Harry only knew one thing- Despite his constant rejection, Louis wanted him every bit as much. So yes he was going to try harder. From now on he was going to make it perfectly clear to the man what was on the table.

Louis had lunch with Dianna and Nick then took to his study hoping to get some work done and swipe that morning’s conversation with Harry from his mind. Being that close to him, touching him... Since Harry started at the company, and the past few days in Rome especially, Louis had been praying what he felt for the man would go away but somehow lately they managed to escalate. After Harry betrayed him by taking Nailee to see her grandmother without his consent or knowledge he thought it would be easier to wash out his feelings. And this morning- which, like in the dressing room, was meant to be an olive branch, turned out to be a battle field that resulted in him confessing his undying love for the man and him taking a reference Louis made way too personally. Husband. As if Louis could ever have a husband at this age. Especially one so young as Harry.

 _God,_ _I just wish there weren’t so many years in the way. I’m seasoned and stuck in my ways. I have a system. I can’t just be in love with someone so green with so much to learn and experience still. So much life to live still. Why can't he understand I’d just be getting in the way with my stupid joints._

Louis opened the door and put the lights on, eyes squinting around the room. He always knew exactly when someone had been in his study unauthorized. Whoever it was had taken off the lights and lit a bunch of candles on the footstool and one on the edge of his desk. Everything else seemed intact. He shrugged and shut the door, adamant to put out the fire hazards and get some work done. He’d ask Marietta to stay out of his work area before dinner later.

As he sat, his eyes fell on a few sheets of parchment he had gotten himself some years ago when Freddie taught him how to buy stuff online. He knew he had the rolls tucked away on the bookshelf but now they lay scattered on top all his paperwork in the middle of the desk. There was something like writing and drops of freshly melted candle wax on them. He picked up the top sheet, eyebrows twitching as he read it curiously.

_'Since you and I have old literature in common I thought I’d come in and help myself to a book. Then I saw this vintage parchment and got carried away and decided I’d write something of my own. So I started writing all these wonderful sonnets about you, and I thought I could handle it. But the eighteenth century aesthetic of it all made me want you so bad I came in here. I literally came in here. Lol. I only wanted to write a nice little note but then I started thinking about you and your huge cock (it felt huge) and got a hard-on and decided what better way to show you how I feel than to jerk myself off on your desk, all over your parchment. I know how this looks, but please understand I had the most exhilarating orgasm thinking about you taking me from behind on the desk in the dim candlelight of your ancient study - He.'_

"Fuck!" Louis spat. "Fuck- Fuck- Fuck- Fuck- _Fuck!"_

He threw the parchment down on the desk and jumped to his feet, pushing the chair backwards with his calves. _What in the fuck!? Harry!_ he thought, breathing heavy. There was cum on the desk as well, matching the spurts on the parchment as it must've pitched there in his ecstasy. Louis let out a small involuntary moan picturing it. He hated it. He hated that his pants were tighter now because of this stubborn man. Putting up with his youthful candour was one thing but this was an outrage!

_I need to put a stop to this once and for all._

He rushed to the door and grabbed the handle. He paused, deciding against it and banging his forehead on the door thrice. He couldn't go argue with Harry with a bulge in his trousers. It would be disastrous. He ripped himself from the door angrily and stomped back to the obscene desk, shaking his head at the sight. He tried to calm himself as he sat down, looking around the desk for how to clean it up, picking up the pile of parchment ready to chuck it in the bin next to the desk and resume work.

Eyes scoping the words again, his breathing quickened once more, and with shaking hands he held the parchment, looking at the wet cum longingly. Hot tears burned through his eyelids as he reached the edge of frustration. And in the madness of some atavistic instinct he gripped the ends of the parchment, crunching it as he pressed it against his face, inhaling in deep pleasurable wisps as he came in his trousers. 

The liquid was warm on his skin, which meant that somewhere on the premises was a newly soft Harry, weak with pleasure in the aftermath of his doing. He croaked out his name as he lowered his head on the desk, rubbing his nose and lips in the wet mess and licking it. He cursed himself, his sobs coming out in boisterous hooks, his face contorted in painful twists, one hand still gripping the now wrinkled parchment.

*

He spotted the culprit in the garden. He was picking Louis’ flowers again, which made him even more mad. Until Harry turned around and Louis saw the little arrangement of perfectly tucked stems in alternate places held there by his big purposeful hand. The same hand he used to no doubt wank himself off in his Study earlier.

Louis stopped dead in his tracks and absorbed the picture before him. In the sunshine Harry's hair was lightly blowing in loose curls.

"If this is your way of selling to me that you are a mature _adult_ , it's not working."

Harry laughed, smelling the flowers as he brushed past Louis. "I'm trying to drive it in that despite how young and completely immature I come across to you, you still want to fuck me... _Till I'm loose?"_ He followed Louis' darting eyes and was even being snotty about it.

Louis' blood pressure went up and his fists folded in. He thought Harry had already fallen asleep when he said that.

“You fail to realize you can now do everything you wanted to do with the Harry that fortune teller told you about.”

"Why are you pushing me!? Just go on and live your life and leave me and my stupid old prophecy that I no longer believe the hell alone!"

"Why don't you believe anymore?"

Louis released a long tired sigh and sat on the grass. "I wasted too much time believing in something...someone who was not real. And there are millions of people in the world named Harry. It's a common name so you are not special!"

"But I’m the only one standing right here in front of you."

"You are half my age! I told you that Harry- if real- is supposed to be _much_ older than you."

"And I told you I feel older than I am. Plus I will make a useful companion. I cook, wash, clean..."

"Wow. Maybe you applied for the wrong job then. I already have a butler back home though."

"According to Crystal you used to care deeply about this Harry."

"Keywords 'used to.'" 

"I fell in love with you in that hotel room. And I was so glad to see you again. I asked to go to dinner with you that time because I needed to know if I was really alone in this. I know you don't believe we can make this work, but we can. Just-"

Louis took a step back from Harry's empty outstretched hand. Harry drew back, containing himself. "So maybe I'm not the Harry that meant something to you before, but I want to be someone you care about now. I want to mean something to you too."

"You do," whispered Louis. "You're everything I want in a companion. But I can't be with you. I haven’t enough years to give you. I’m a gentleman, I'd never do that to you. You say you want me but one day you'll wake up and I won't be able to satisfy you. You'll long for someone your own age."

"Why do you always act like my feelings don't mean a thing? I love _you_ , not someone _‘my own age’._ "

"I'm twenty-eight years your senior," hissed Louis.

"Like that matters!" Harry’s eyes blazed bright, neck bones protruding. "You know, if I was a teenager I'd get why you're so stubborn. Teens can't be in relationships with adults because they are young and their brains aren't developed enough to make choices like that, but what about the moment they grow up? What if a person grows up and is fully aware of what they want? And what if they want someone older, someone who has been an adult for a much longer time? So I was born when you were twenty-eight,” he shrugged, “If anything were to happen anytime between then and when I turned eighteen it would have been atrocious, but I am a ripe man of twenty-six. I can think and bloody well choose for myself. And I choose you."

"I never said I was an option." Louis stared him down defiantly.

Harry shook his head pityingly. "You know, Louis, you sleep alone. On that big bed. How does that feel? Have you made peace with never getting to meet your Harry, and then trying to move on with someone in a hotel, only to find out that someone was your Harry, and he wanted you and you rejected him?"

Louis stiffened his jaw but it didn't scare Harry. "How do you feel to crawl in bed alone knowing I'm just down the hall all oiled up for you?" Harry continued on. "You think you're doing something admirable? How long do you think you can put up this act?"

Louis laughed bitterly, his squinted eyes on Harry like he'd make him regret it if he continued speaking. He knew from the way Harry’s lips turned up at the sides he must be thinking _'Good, I hit a nerve_.' He wanted to wipe that smile off so clean.

"You're willing to give up the little happiness you have left to grow old and die alone with no one,” the younger man continued. “You said you never slept with your wife and from the way you act all shy and bothered I can tell you hadn't fucked anyone in years. I can fix that. When you're ready to talk, or _not_ talk, you know where to find me."

Taking a whiff of the flowers in his hand, he semi circled around Louis and stomped off to the house.

*

**Louis pov**

Louis closed the book. "Okay, we will finish the story tomorrow. Goodnight, Nay."

"Night, Granddad," Nailee turned in her bed and fell sound asleep.

He pulled the light switch of the Floral lamp by her bedside, the chartreuse trim dimming and swallowing up with the rest of the room in darkness.

Putting the book on the nightstand, he crept out and softly shut the door.

“You’re different with her," someone said from behind him and he jumped halfway out his skin. "I like this side of you, the soft side.” 

It was Harry. He was wearing a silky pyjama suit, his arms folded and a hair-raising stare.

"Do try not to kill me before I'm ready, lad," Louis glowered at him, hand on his chest.

"Humph," Harry quipped with a smile. "I don't like it. Makes me sounds like a schoolboy," he explained when Louis pushed his head out confused. "Babe, Honey or Darling will do just fine."

Louis observed the man in the dim hallway light. His hair, a little past his jaw now, was in its loose haphazard curls, some frizzy and some well in, lashing at his milky cheek, his eyes were licking Louis up like gelato, making him weak below the waist. _Darling, huh?_ Louis' senses dizzied. He had a sudden urge to grab his hand and drag him down the hall to his room but he had to be the reasonable one. Harry sure as well was not thinking about the consequences.

He was about to excuse himself to rush to his room and jerk off in his bed sheets to the mental picture of the man before him, but Harry spoke again.

“You know, I read _A Little Princess_. In it her father dies. Is the same true for Nay, or is that something you told her too?”

Louis' desire grew tepid. “Contrary to the belief, I do regret lying to Crystal. It was the worst thing I ever did. I would never do that to Nailee. Her father bailed. She knows that. And she knows she has all of us to make up for his absence."

Harry’s eyes went south with a tiny accepting nod. But Louis wondered how far he had fallen in the man’s eyes after he heard what Louis did. 

“How long are _we_ going to lie?" Harry said. "Pretend there’s nothing between us? I’ve been trying to tell myself it’s for the best and it’s what you want but when you look at me like that...”

“Like what?” Louis was not even aware there was a _way_ he looked at Harry.

Harry did not specify. Instead he said; “I know it was three years ago but what happened there is still very real to me. I still want those things with you."

 _I know you made it overly clear, Harry…_ Louis was already struggling to fight his desires and Harry just had to say that. “Why are you doing this now? Why are you saying these things? Are you out for something?” 

“I’m telling you how I feel about you. What would I be out for?”

“Look at me and tell me you’re not in the least bit attracted to the fact that I’m rich.” It was a low blow but Louis was desperate to deter the man.

Harry’s face twisted into something scorned. “How can you even say that?"

“Oh please, Harry. You don’t at least see all this as a ticket?” Louis’ gaze shifted around the high wall arches of the hallway. He hated playing this card but Harry was not listening so he had to keep trying ad libitum.

Harry forced his face into shape. “So that’s it? That’s what’s between us? The fact that you think I’m young and naïve and a gold digger?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m just saying that you don’t know anything about me, or what it takes to be with someone of my social standing.” Louis regretted the words as they came out. He sounded like his hoity-toity father.

“You’re right, I may be of a lower class and so there’s a lot I don’t know about _cheese boards_. But I do know you. I know you’re traditional. You hate change, you like things a certain way, you thrive on mnemonic strategies for everything from your business to the way you sort your clothes. You have a humongous sweet tooth. Two scoops of ice-cream, two sugars in your coffee and,” he laughed, “You wear shoes that are way too expensive even for a business tycoon. See, I know you. But let me tell you something-” he stepped up to Louis looking in each eye, “I never asked you to help my parents, I was just fine with them moving in with me. I came to Rome because of my job and since I’ve been here I haven’t asked you for so much as a dollar, I bought my souvenirs with my own money. I’m not desperate and money hungry.” 

Louis was caught so off guard he hardly had a reply to that. All he could do was stand there as Harry stormed off snaring at him.

*

**Sunday**

The next day there was a drab blur of clouds lurking over the house, and bad weather newscast on the TV. The team got through the work day with the rains pouring down outside and Nailee stayed in her room playing with her doll and teddy bear, but it was when the night came that the weather got really bad. A thunderstorm was overhead and from the sounds of it might last all night.

Later that night when everyone was tucked in, Louis roamed the halls once again. It was hard to sleep with Harry’s words eating away at him. Flashing blue lightning bathing him and illuminating the corners of the house, and hammering thunder blazing his eardrums as he walked into the living room. Another flash of lightning and he was almost electrified by his own frightened nerves; Harry was already in the room. He was sitting cross-legged by the fireplace in a merino sweater with a look of concentration like he was in deep thought of some kind. Louis stood his distance but let his presence be known with a throat clearing that nearly went unheard in the fray of rain and rumble.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who has trouble sleeping,” he said, drawing near. Harry spared him one whole glance.

Guessing the man was still offended about their last conversation, Louis walked over and took a seat on the floor about half a meter apart. 

“About what I said before,” he began, gazing at the skin just above the wide, rust-colored neck of his sweater that somehow made his eyes deeper, richer. “You came here to do your job and I shouldn’t debase that. I apologize.”

Above the outside noise Louis practically heard Harry's little snort as he rolled his eyes at the apology. Louis chose not to challenge it. Harry was right, it was bullshit. Why did Louis always have to be so uptight and unbending? Always so formal and bypassing? Harry must think it is easy for him to sit here on the floor just like they did the last night of their weekend in the Lamure and completely ignore that he wasn’t just in Rome for work. He was so close he could feel his body warmth together with the fire’s. He could see the yellow crackles blending in with blue light from the skies outside, dancing on his face and neck. That neck Louis wished he could bury his face in and hibernate until winter comes and goes. Harry must think it is easy...

The fire crackled, being the only sound between them for a while. Until finally Harry took in a deep breath.

“It would be nice to live in a house like this.” He spoke in a near whisper but Louis was close enough to hear every word. “To be lord of a manor and boss of a staff that keeps it exactly a certain way. The pictures, the furniture, the right amount of sugar in my tea and herbs in my Peking duck, all exactly the way I like it. I think about it...” Harry was looking at him now, his eyes steady and honest.

“I think about waking up every day to my equal,” he continued, a brief smile flashing across his face as fast as the lightning, “and helping him take care of his home and his business. I’d be lying if I said it never crossed my mind that if I get to be with the man I love, I would automatically come across great fortune. And that scares me just as much as it excites me, because you were right; I don’t know the first thing about being rich and privileged. Or even running a company. But I want to learn. I want to be by your side treading a path I don’t know how to navigate but one day will. As far as I see it I’ve been around you for weeks and I have learned some things already. I made a mistake that I am willing to learn from and make up for. I know I can contribute in ways that benefit you and everything you hold dear. I have learned so much and I can learn more.” His eyes grew deep with something Louis had never seen in him before- devotion. “Because I want to stay. I want to be lord of this with you one day. I am young but I am not here for a free ride. I am here to work hard and be a significant part of your world. Think about that.”

He let the speech soak in as he got up to stick the poker in the embers of the fire. From his brisk body language Louis took the queue to get up as well. He dusted off his hands on his sides, mind reeling in thought. With a faint smile, Harry snaked around him and headed out to his bed quarters, leaving him staring at the fire that had replaced his silhouette.

*

**Harry pov**

Harry rumpled the covers and sat up in the bed. He was not that afraid of storms but the human sized valet stand was creeping him out in the dark and light intervals of the lightning. He never used it, but Marietta kept putting his thrown shirts on it whenever she passed through the room, and in the storm it looked like something from a horror movie.

He slugged away and sat on the edge of the bed, the breeze blowing sprinklers of rain in. He closed the window, glad at least the flower pot Louis gave him got rain water. Flopping back in bed, he closed his eyes and let thoughts of the man waft him. He had been so angry with Louis all day for assuming he was some sort of a greedy tramp but despite Louis’ harsh words Harry still saw the truth in his eyes. His restless eyes.

Eyes snapping open, he stretched and grabbed his pillow, and headed out the door.

 _Great,_ he thought halfway down the hallway and facing an oncoming Freddie.

"Just where do you think you are going?" the boy sputtered, _bling-ed_ up with his hair all wet like he just bounced out into the bad weather from an all-night party at a club. The rain and sweat on him seemed to have mingled and brewed a stench that burned Harry’s nostrils.

"Daddy's room. I need a cuddle," Harry said roughly. 

Freddie moved back, aghast.

Harry proceeded to Louis' room, wiggling his bum fancily and glaring through the corner of his eyes at the white-faced Freddie.

Coming up to the door, he opened it and slid in with a side-eye to where Freddie was still looking on in shock. 

Moving closer in the dim room his foot hit the ball-and-claw bench at the foot of Louis’ bed and he slapped his mouth shut not to curse out loud. The man did not feel or hear a thing, he just lay there sleeping as still as a log in his magnificent bed with gentlemanly upholstery, against the backdrop of his royalty-inspired headboard. 

Harry was not prepared for the rush of nostalgia that bathed him on seeing a dainty Louis lying sound asleep in his plush bedding just like in the hotel. Memories of the carefree tousles of hair while he slept next to him, belly down with only the chocolate box between them brought a smile to his lips as he gently rested the pillow at the man’s side. But he was not on his belly tonight. He was on his back with his head facing left and his mouth slightly open letting out little whistles of snores. His hand laid delicately on his pillow like those Renaissance portraits of Christ, or Kate Winslet posing for her portrait in Titanic. There was nothing Christ-like about the protuberance of his lower abdomen though.

 _Someone's having a good dream._ Harry’s mouth watered at the sight and he was aching to know what the size would feel like inside him.

Careful not to wake the man, Harry climbed up into Louis’ bed, placing himself down on his hands and knees to face him, close enough to feel the tiny whistle breezes on his face...

*

**Louis pov**

The next morning was dim but calm. Last night’s rain had left a stupor on the botanicals and the grey clouds still loomed in the aftermath. Nailee scuttled up to Louis first thing when she saw him in the dining room, and went off into a tirade on how nobody came to her room with candles when the lights went out last night and how from her frightened position on the bed she heard a small scream and was too terrified to flinch and she fell asleep that way. Louis went crimson and told her how sorry he was and that the lights had come back on as fast as it turned off and he had told himself she was fast asleep. 

The scream was harder to explain. How was he to tell her the actual chain of events? From what he had gathered in the minutes that it happened, the lights had gone off, and a startled bouncing on his bed woke him up, and he instinctively grabbed on to the person’s head- who he didn’t even know was sleeping there- which made the person yelp and blindly whack Louis across the face in response just as the lights turned back on. He would have had to explain what gave Harry the reasoning to sneak into his bed in the first place. And Nay was no fool, of course she would thus know there was something between them. And then how was he going to tell everyone else besides Freddie, who was on the other side of his door when Harry fled the room and knows now that something is up. After Harry ran off he had to stop Freddie from calling the police. The young man had been hysterical thinking Harry had gone in there specifically to attack Louis, and Louis barely had a good excuse for Harry, attributing it to some work related thing, but soon enough he too was bound to put it together.

Breakfast on the patio was a quiet affair, the others remarking that they were sound asleep during the storm and didn’t hear the thunder at all, Freddie and Harry keeping their heads low and their comments vague.

Soon after the others went off to their day’s work, Louis was left alone with Harry and his laptop while Marietta cleared the table. They younger man ignored him under the pretext of clearing out his email. Louis still saw the embarrassment through and through.

"I am so sorry about last night," he said, picking up his pen and looking at Harry’s head. Once he talked Freddie down and went back into his room he was greeted by a new sleeping pal. Harry’s pillow. Not one that was provided with the room. Harry’s _pillowey_. Tiptoeing back to his side of the bed with careful eyes on the dark smiling face, he had slipped into bed and caught a whiff of Harry’s smell. A sort of shampoo mixed with coconut oil and something sweet he didn’t know. For a good few minutes he had laid there staring at the thing, thinking about Harry and what just happened and everything else that happened before that, while soaking up the smell until he couldn’t smell anything from that far anymore, and just like that he had said _fuck it, it’s just a pillow, I’m not breaking any major rules,_ and he grabbed it into his face and took a good whiff and then hugged it tight, finally closing his eyes and falling back to sleep.

"It's fine. I'm over it." 

"I feel awful. But I am curious as to how you ended up in my room. In my bed.”

"I'm sorry I hit you," Harry diverted. "And like I said, it's fine." He gave a bland expression and went back to his laptop. It was strange, usually when Harry did something like this he'd give a defiant smirk or something, a secret something so Louis could know his mind but this time he was almost...disinterested.

Louis parted his lips again to ask if he was alright and maybe wanted his pillow back, but Nick came back in just then.

Harry lifted his head and smiled warmly.

"Don't forget our date tonight. Eight o'clock," Nick said as he leaned down for a peck which Harry was happy to provide. 

"Jaleel's?" Harry clipped and wiped the already nonexistent smile from Louis' face.

"Yep."

Louis' eyelashes fluttered in flabbergast and he felt he'd be sick. He glowered as Nick placed his hands around Harry's neck from behind and peeked on his laptop screen. 

Harry's eyes wandered to Louis' fingers and it was then Louis realized he had a deadly grip on the pen. He peered at Harry and saw the tiny smirk escape him as his eyes moved off. 

_He's purposefully doing this to tick me off._

*****

Seven-thirty-two pm. Almost time for Harry's date. Louis stood seething through the window of his study out into the dark gardens where he was bound to see a glimpse of Nick's and Harry's car leaving for the restaurant. It made him so sick he almost tasted his bile. His joints were fine tonight but everything hurt and he didn't know why. He should be glad. He kept Harry at bay. Made his every sanguine attempt to woo him turn futile, brushed him off, denied him, and still this new victory hurt like tiny sea creatures clawing at his soul. 

He wondered if somewhere out there in the universe his twin soul was feeling the same pain. He hoped he was, he wanted that Harry to pay for never coming and sweeping him off his feet and completing his life. Because now he had to live alone and hurt over some guy he shouldn't even be thinking about, and oh yeah thank you universe for the horrible joke of making his name Harry too.

He moved away from the window. He decided against torturing himself that way. Perhaps he could make a night out of it instead. Everyone had their own plans and who was to say he couldn't have fun too. 

He moved to the cabinet and took out an old vinyl album and the little green bottle of _Moet Chandon Petite_ from his father's stash. The one bottle he stole to share with Niall the day he came back to Rome all those years ago. He found out his father had been keeping that one for a toast when Louis decided to come home with his soul _whatever_ , and when the man died Louis had brought it to Rome to do just that. But then Niall died and he had hid it with the other things he did not want to face.

He put his old gramophone on and let the soft music invade the room. Who told him to do that? The first song that played was Niall’s favorite. 

Pouring a drink, his eyes darted to the painting now covered in a white sheet, leaning on the wall beside the decrepit couch. His mind dove to the day Niall hung it there. 

_‘It's as genuine as a three dollar bill but it looks great on our wall, I'd say. Something to keep us on the right track, remind us how important our friendship is and our partnership.’_

He shut his burning eyes and took a sip of the drink. As he tasted the quaint liquor on his tongue he heard his father’s voice now- _“son, you've come home. Have you finished building your castle in the sky?”_

It had been the day Louis came home from Rome for the first time in almost ten years. He remembered his father laying there on his deathbed with a weak smile, telling him how he told his wife he knew their son and knew those dreams weren't for him, that he was supposed to stay and carry on his legacy. He even told Louis if he hadn't left that by now Louis would have been already prepared to take over after he passed. 

Louis downed all the alcohol in one gulp, laughing at the irony of the painful elixir, and with a sharp throw, the scotch glass went crashing to the wall above the painting.

Head spinning and emotions stirring in the momentum, he heard the door chink, and Harry's face appeared. 

And that was the tip of the iceberg. Louis dropped to the floor on his knees in clobbers, pulling at his hair.

Harry rushed in, tiptoeing over the broken glass and surveying the scene, and Louis could already smell the sweet scents of date night perfume. 

Harry got down on his knees, his arms encasing Louis’ narrow shoulders, and Louis began to feel all kinds of inexplicable things at the touch, but plain comfort was amidst them.

Then Louis began to speak fluently in Italian, and before he knew it, he was sobbing in Harry’s arms, the man having no idea what he just said. But one word was surely understood- the square root of all his regrets- _Niall_.

"When you said I was in love with Niall…" he now said in English. "I wasn’t. The things we were to each other cannot be described by such a flippant, _jaded_ word like love. He was my best friend and my soulmate. But he had Hailee and my heart belonged foolishly to someone who never came. I waited for Harry for years thinking I’d only truly be happy with him. Then I realized that Niall and Crystal brought me real happiness. It was going to be the three of us. I was going to raise a family with him. He was going to move to England and build a life with me and Crystal. He died on the threshold of that dream. And that broke me into a million pieces. 

"I hated Harry,” Louis said colder after a slight pause, “I loathed him for taking me away from a love I could feel. A life I could see. I buried all thoughts of Harry the day I lost Niall. And I vowed never to be that naïve again."

Louis laughed at himself and then told Harry that Niall bought him so many relics that he couldn’t turn without getting hit in the face with memories. The motorcycle, the couch, the lamp...

“The lamp base…” he said, wiping his nose, “That was from Niall- _Hercules and Antaeus._ Antaeus was a superhuman wrestler, strong as long as he kept his feet planted to the ground, but once lifted into the air he became as vulnerable as other men. He defeated most of his opponents until his fight with Hercules, who as you probably know, also had super strength. Hercules discovered Antaeus’s secret and crushed him in a bear hug. It doesn’t sound romantic at all in the love sense, but the struggle between Antaeus and Hercules became a gay symbol because the scene was mostly popular among renaissance artists who liked to paint naked men,” he exchanged laughs with Harry. “Hercules was our thing. Anything he'd find with the legend...He liked to give me these kinds of romantic, _phallic_ things,” he said with fondness. “I was ignorant to the fact that he was in love with me.

"When the fortune teller revealed that we were soulmates, I still rejected him because I wanted to wait for the Twin soul prophecy, and by the time I came to my senses we had already lost so much time. And then he died. I never got the chance to tell him how sorry I was for letting all that time pass us by.”

Louis began to sob again and Harry stayed quiet, listening.

“He was my first friend, my first time, my first everything,” Louis sobbed. “This house and everything in it reminds me of him.”

Louis felt something vibrate between their clothes interrupting him, and Harry shifted. He took his phone out and answered it. 

“Um, Nick,” his forehead crunched, “...I know, something came up. Can we do this another time?” His eyes were locked on Louis as he said it, and Louis almost thought it was him Harry was talking to until Harry continued apologizing to Nick and suggesting another date to go out. Louis was relieved, and as Harry spoke, there was a silent meaning in their gaze, a little conversation going on among their four orbs in a secret ethereal location between them, and Louis knew he didn't mean it, knew that he didn't want to go out another time- any other time again.

As Harry hung up, Louis thought about apologizing for ruining his date but then he wasn't sorry at all, company policy. Plus he didn't tell Harry to come rushing in here in the first place, what was he even doing on this wing?

“And the painting…” Harry said softly as he tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Will you tell me about the painting?”

"That,” Louis croaked, “he bought me that too. It has so much meaning I can't even look at it. But I miss him so much and I hate hiding him away, Harry. I hate hiding away everything he ever gave me, because it reminds me of him and how much he loved me. I know I sound crazy and I probably am.”

"Sounds to me like you had been given the gift of knowing your soulmate. And even with him gone now, you have so many memories to keep you going. You should not be afraid to talk about something so rare and beautiful." 

"When you told me what our journal did for you and suggested I bring it back...I tried. After _IColorture_ became global we got the news that _Outrage_ disbanded and Liam asked me if I wanted to give it a jumpstart again now that the coast was clear, and I wanted to. I was excited to. Eleanor was too scared to be a part of the process after what happened before, but when I began to work on it and I realized I was doing it alone without Niall I- couldn't. It hurt so much I couldn't bear to even look at the logo." Louis sobbed even harder now, his chest in utter pain.

"I know, it's okay, Lou," Harry embraced him tight. "It's okay."

"I'm a fraud and a loser. I won at so many empty things but lost where it mattered the most."

"You are not a loser."

"Yes I am. I built a billion dollar company that doesn't do shit to help a soul like the journal did. I _bowdlerized_ myself like Oscar Wilde did to _The Picture Of Dorian Gray_. I dissolved the one thing Niall and I were passionate about. He would have been there to restart it with me if he hadn't gotten ki-" Louis reached breaking point.

"Listen to me," Harry took his face in his hands, "I'm not letting you sell yourself short. This company _does_ help people. It gave me a job I can be proud of. It's because of _IColorture_ my parents get to keep the home I grew up in. it took care of your family... It ensures that Niall's grandchild has a legacy she can carry on to the next generation, and the next. And Oscar didn’t bowdlerize himself. He simply found a different, more eloquent way of saying what he felt under pressure. Just like you did with _IColorture."_

Louis' tears seemed endless, but he was grateful for Harry's encouragement. Harry smoothed his hair and rubbed his back and told him Crystal and Nailee should know more about Niall from Louis' perspective. He blew on his heated forehead and put him on the couch to relax. And when Louis had stopped crying Harry then asked one more thing of him.

"We're not bottling this all up anymore,” he said, sounding like a therapist. “We're letting it flow and keeping his memory alive." 

Louis nodded and made a little soothed hum at the feel of Harry’s hand on his back.

"And the first thing we are going to do,” Harry rose up and turned his back on Louis, “is put this back up, okay?" He picked up the painting. Louis saw the sheet fall away and swore he heard the faded artwork giggle at him in Niall's voice. He wanted to scream at Harry to stop, to throw the sheet back on, but then the giggling turned into words, like a spiral octave.

_'... So basically it’s a gift to remind you of me and what we’re doing with the journal...So basically it’s a gift to remind you of me and what we’re doing with the journal...journal...journal...”_

Niall’s song had died down somewhere between the phone call and Harry moving the frame, and another song was now fluctuating mellifluously through the room.

Louis did not drink that much but it must have been the effect of the good stuff because before he could stop himself he was reaching out and taking Harry’s hand as the man turned around from setting the painting.

Humming to the beat, Louis pulled him in a slowly floundering dance. Eyebrows moving inquisitively, Harry let out a giggle and bit his lips, allowing Louis to pull him close. 

It was all platonic, but awkward and nice, gently swaying like two kids at a school dance. And as the song went on, them in each other’s arms, Louis began to feel something he had never felt with Harry before. Something incredibly familiar, a powerful déjà vu that he tried on the spot to place but could not. 

The music soon died and the chord of another began again, and Harry slowly, almost reluctantly pulled away and smiled. “Well, you wasted all the liquor and you're almost in a drowse, so how about we get you to bed? He took both Louis’ hands and swung them, eyes on him.

Louis stiffened, eyes widening. He had no idea what to say, or if he even wanted to object this time.

Harry’s mouth opened an inch and he inhaled in realization. “I didn’t mean it like that, Louis,” he let go off his hands.

“Of course,” Louis squeaked, not really buying it. 

“I just mean you," Harry folded his arms tensely. "You need to sleep this off, the earlier the better.”

Observing the apprehensive body language, Louis took the queue and nodded distractedly. “Um, I think I’ll stay here and clean this mess up first. I’ll be fine.” 

“I’ll get a mop,” Harry said, voice strained, looking for some sort of permission to help. He seemed extremely self contained with no tricks up his sleeve and Louis pondered whether it was the alcohol that was playing tricks on him. Caught up in the strange feelings, all Louis could do was nod weakly.

The second Harry was out the door Louis rushed over to the desk, body in a mad heat, cold sweating, gasping hectically as though he was coughing up water from his lungs. 

Eight minutes later when Louis had some time to pull himself together, Harry came back in with the mop, a scoop, and a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm sorry I snuck into your room last night," he said as Louis took the scoop and pushed the broken glass in it with his foot. "You keep telling me I’m immature, and like the arrogant fool, I keep giving you reasons."

Louis was the sorry one. He was sorry he didn’t just let Harry in before. He wanted to tell him that. He was about to tell him that. But Harry was still talking.

"I really am sorry I hit you. It's this thing I was born with. This phobia. My mum said I'd cry whenever she put baby hats on me."

“I remember but I didn't know exactly how serious it was until you hit me."

“Can we erase that and start over? I know we keep doing that; starting over- but- Can we do it one more time?” 

Louis wanted to laugh so hard he stuck his tongue in his cheek and squinted his eye. This constant repetition and reestablishing boundaries and friendship was so comically tiring. It was painfully apparent that it was becoming increasingly difficult to be friends at all. But looking at the man, his chin propped on the mop handle gazing at him so afraid Louis would say no, Louis had to say yes.

*

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is one of my fav chapters bcz u see Louis is finally talking about him and Niall, and coming around but now Harry wants to go back to friends. You just have to wait for the next chapter to see how that plays out, which is also one of my favorite chapters. Tell me all your thoughts on this one and don't forget to hit the kudos button!


	15. Chapter fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late update, I'm having a rather intense weekend.

**_“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”—Maya Angelou._ **

**Harry POV**

Harry woke up groggy from a dream. He hadn't had one of those in weeks. He sat upright in his bed, the early morning sun just on the horizon, going over the contents in his head; he had found himself in the same peculiarly decorated room as a dream he once had. He was sitting on the bed he shared with the ginger-haired man, suitcases packed, an envelope in his hand. But that wasn't the main thing. It wasn't so much the scene but the feeling he had in the dream. A determination and excitement molded in with the sadness of leaving. The man he had been with in the previous dream was not present in this one but Harry guessed the letter was for him. That was all he remembered. 

He figured it had to be a sign. Last night with Louis had been eye opening. It was clear Louis was a broken man who had experienced a special love he could not come close to giving him. Niall's love was all Louis knew and he seemed content with never feeling it again with anyone else. Harry had guessed that Niall meant something more to Louis but after hearing exactly what, he accepted defeat, and this dream had to be confirmation he should move on and let the man be. Stop torturing him.

Louis said he hated his twin soul Harry. The way he talked about that Harry and the way he spoke of Niall were drastically different. Harry had been washed with shame hearing how someone with the same name as him made everything in Louis' life go wrong and made him lose time with the man he really loved. Harry suddenly didn't want to be Harry anymore. He didn't want to share anything in common with someone Louis despised. So the dream might have meant he should pack up his feelings and give the man his space. In the dream he was leaving the man he knew and cared about. But why was he so excited to go in the dream? Why was he hit with the feeling like Louis was the one he was running to and not from? Anyhow, he told himself, dreams are never clear- always vague and puzzling. It was still a sign to move on.

So Nick was not a bad guy, Harry thought as he got out of bed and changed into his jogging wear. Not really much to him, pretty uneventful, no drama. Harry needed zero drama at the moment. It was not like he was planning to make any major commitments, he can just go out and loosen up a little, see more of Rome and enjoy his time here. Let Louis breathe.

*

Laundry time again. Louis spared a few minutes off his desk work when he saw the sun come out full blaze. After yanking away all his bed covers and balling them up with his clothes, he dragged the whole bundle down the halls to the washing machine, hellbent on taking advantage of the heat.

He was amazed at how light he felt after last night, and it even drowned out how slightly embarrassed he was about being drunk in front of Harry. 

On a darker note, he had nearly lost his goddamn countenance when he heard Nick chuckle a lofty _ “Tonight?” _ while everyone was scattering out of breakfast this morning. But Louis figured this is how it was now. He was back in the friend zone where he belonged, where he drove himself. And that's okay because Harry was a great friend last night, and they obviously work better when he’s not trying to virtually have sex with him through old parchment like some kind of wizard. 

As he sorted out his colors and separated the bedding, a soft lump fell out. He looked down to see the thing smiling up at him. The pillowey. He must have scooped it up with the bedding by accident. Picking it up and putting it on the shelf over the machine, he resumed his sorting and decided to dump his white sheets in first. 

He closed the lid and found himself being smiled at again. He squinted at it and noticed a film of dust on the shelf around the thing.  _ Oh no, Harry has allergies. Maybe I’ll just shake it out and take it back to him. _ He then thought of how microscopic dust might still be on it and it does look a bit too old and dingy anyway to be brandished around the way Harry proudly does. Tapping his toes on the damp concrete, he thought what the heck, pulled up the lid and dunked it in. He poured more detergent in the compartment and closed the lid, dialed the knobs and left it to its job. 

Twenty minutes later he came back and pulled out the pillow, his nose engulfed in the refreshing scent. 

It looked completely different. This old, ragged thing that Harry loved made fresh and almost new. It was amazing to think that even if he hadn't washed it Harry would have gone on carrying it around, loving it for what it meant to him and not what it looked like. Even now to Harry it would still be an old comforting friend, but the pillow strangely somehow -if it had a soul- would now feel rejuvenated in Harry's arms.

Putting in another pile to wash, he bypassed the already rumbling dryer and carried the pillow and the sheets to the clothing line out back and proceeded to hang them up with the little old wooden clothespins Niall had bought many years ago. In her recent shopping, Marietta had bought a bunch of new colored plastic ones for all the extra clothes but Louis’ fingers gravitated to the older ones by heart. 

His hand touched the last item- the pillow- and lifted it to the line with a fond smile. Looking down in the basin for another pin to fasten it, all the good wooden ones were used up leaving some dry-rotted and broken away from the coil, so he picked up a red plastic one and pinned the pillowy up by its top left corner, its face -even though faded with time- more visible and somewhat happier, gleaming, and smiling brightly in the sun.

*

Back in his study Louis tried. He really tried to forget that he was as close to Harry as two trees whose branches brushed in the wind last night, really tried to forget the smell of his hair and compassionate tone of his voice as he comforted him. 

He was not sure what it was that rekindled a desire to review the parchment, but he found himself reaching for it again. He clutched it. Another roll fell out and it occurred to him there were two rolls of scribbles Harry had left on the desk. Fresh curiosity to know what other mischief the man had written, Louis pulled the curls open and read;

_ Burning cities _

_ And napalm skies _

_ Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes _

_ I've been watching you _

_ For some time _

_ Can't stop staring _

_ At those oceans eyes, _

Louis blinked rapidly as he read on.

__

_ No fair _

_ You really know how to make me cry _

_ When you gimme those ocean eyes _

_ I'm scared _

_ I've never fallen from quite this high _

_ Falling into your ocean eyes _

__

Louis’ breath was stagnant. He didn't think he'd ever gotten this hot for poetry before.

_ I've been walking through _

_ A world gone blind _

_ Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind _

_ Careful creature _

_ Made friends with time _

_ He left her lonely with a diamond mine _

_ And those ocean eyes _

__

Harry had left a big spacing between the rest of the poem and the reverberant last line;

__

_ I'm scared. _

This provoked Louis’ thoughts. Harry had been hurt before by people who took his love for granted. A love that allows a person to write something like this deserves so much safety and care and desire to make sure they never have anything to be scared of again. Louis needed Harry to not be scared anymore.

He kept on reading what Harry wrote; elaborations on some of the things he was scared about-

_ What am I now? _

_ What if I'm someone you don't want around? _

_ What if I'm down? _

_ What if I'm out? _

_ What if I'm someone you won't talk about? _

_ I'm falling. _

It was in a nutshell what Louis saw as Harry's worry that he'd shut away his feelings for Harry forever and never tell a soul about them, like he had done with Niall. 

His eyes grazed the dried powdery residue on the other parchment. The thing he did was childish and uncouth yet regardless of how it may look, Harry was far from banal. He was erudite, and used big words like  _ portmanteau,  _ and Louis can carry on an intellectual conversation with him. On the other hand, he was young and sometimes acted without thinking but he could learn. Louis could teach him strategy and order.

Louis was tired of pushing Harry away, and him coming back like a yoyo every time. The thing about this yoyo was that Louis felt nothing like the one pulling the strings. This yoyo felt more like a rope in a tug of war, both ends equally yearning for each other but never being able to relax and come together. 

Tucking the parchment in his desk drawer, the words Harry wrote still running around in his mind, he was hit with an epiphany. What if they could find a way to talk things through and come to some agreement on how to deal with their feelings for each other at little harm to the company and everyone else involved? What if he could make this a strategic process of figuring out if he and Harry would work or not without immediately jumping into things and disrupting the company and outraging his family? They can go out on a couple of harmless dates and see if it was worth it before considering telling their families and discussing the long term. 

Louis sat with the parchment for a long while, trying to map out his next step.

*

Creeping into the guest house Nick was sharing with Freddie and Dan, and opening the man's laptop, Louis had a surreptitious plan. The place was empty, Freddie went with Dan to get a suit for the gala and Nick was with Harry somewhere on the compound. Louis knew he had no business interfering in Harry’s personal life, but something about Nick's persona, even though he had worked at  _ IColorture _ for years and he and Louis were on good terms professionally, didn’t sit right with Louis. Nick was a player. Louis had seen him with endless men at company dinner-parties and events. Harry was special. Harry was beautiful and pure and intelligent. Harry deserved so much more than Nick. He had no idea what Nick was like, but Louis did. And if Harry insisted on moving on with him then Louis would find another way to protect him.

He started typing on Nick’s keyboard, periodically looking back at the door. Working with Nick for years had its mundane benefits like knowing his password, having seen it typed in many times. Who would have known it would come in handy for Louis personally rather than to check something work-related? Heck this was work-related- Harry was a vital employee and Nick's pursuit may scare him away or muddle his zeal to work if it went wrong.

Whatever Louis was telling himself as an excuse to go digging in Nick’s computer, one thing was for sure- Harry's not going on that damn date tonight.

*

Sneaking away from Nick’s work space, Louis dove out of the small building and bent the corner to look out at the garden. His eyes pierced like daggers at the scene before him- Harry in a blue denim jumper all snuggled up to Nick, who was in a pair of chinos and a blazer giggling while he recited what sounded to Louis from a distance like the speech he wrote for Harry's next encounter with the press.

“Does he really expect you to say this crap...?” Nick was saying. “What does he think this is, a Miss Universe pageant? _‘It is my greatest desire_ …’” the man mocked the speech while Harry rolled up the papers and hit him in the bicep playfully while grinning and saying something along the lines of “At least he’s media-savvy.” Despite the kind word Louis had never felt a bigger rage sneak up his neck vein.

Clenching his fists, he stormed off to his study and opened the shared file to Nick’s work. Forcing his breath to an ease he then called in Crystal to help him check the quarterly worksheets. Crystal was still mad at him but he had gotten her to talk about business and Nailee a couple times since the photoshoot.

“Oh dear God!” Crystal clutched her chest as she started to type and scan. “Look at this. Everything is all muddled up!”

Louis tilted his head to the screen, pretending his gasp was fresh and oblivious. “Goodness gracious- was he drunk when filling these in?”

He then dialled Nick’s cell, knowing he was still outside with Harry.

“Yes boss,” he heard the man give a faint snicker on the other end possibly to joke with Harry about the  _ speak of the devil  _ call after he just made fun of him.

“Nick!” Louis yelled into the phone as he looked at the computer screen in his study. “What in the bloody hell am I looking at?”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Your spreadsheets are a total mess! We have a deadline! Since when have you ever played with your job like this?”

“Utter disaster!” Crystal spewed from over his shoulder as she checked out the worksheets.

“I don’t understand," Nick stammered. "The sheets were  _ fine.” _

“You have eight hours to fix this crap,” Louis demanded mercilessly. “If this trip is getting in the way of your work, you can be sure I will have you shipped back to England by morning!”

“I’m sorry," Nick mumbled. "System must be on the blink. I’ll get right on it.”

Louis hung up on the man who was still stuttering befuddled. Crystal looked at him with an eyebrow like  _ Don’t you think that was a little harsh? _

“The incompetence, I swear,” he said to her to make himself believable.

*

It was dusk when Louis spotted the head of curls out on the terrace and quietly skipped up to him. The skies were a mixture of pink sunset and galloping grey clouds. Tiny flocks of birds in the distance glorifying the picture as they glided one last time before nest time. 

The only thing out of place was Bruce's incessant barking from where he was tied to the terrace banister. Louis told himself he must want to run about free to chase a squirrel or something. God forbid a paparazzo had snuck in again. He had ordered Dan to get rid of the security after they failed to secure the photoshoot. No use spending money on crappy detail. 

“Thought you had a date tonight?” Louis said, pretending not to be out of breath from the speed of catching up with Harry. He slowed down to the young man’s pace.

“I did. I do,” Harry stuttered, caught off guard. “He's just gonna be a little late.”

_ Or not show up at all, _ Louis smiled smugly. Louis sensed the tension Harry had concerning being linked with Nick now after Louis had warned him not to get involved with that man before and he could tell Harry was a bit concerned for what it meant for his job now that they were ‘dating.’ Louis found it amusing how the skin under his eye twitched at the word ‘date.’ He had to be wondering why Louis was so calm and collective about it.

Louis smiled to himself as he scanned his sleeveless T and shorts. Not exactly date night clothing. Plan is working.

“Where are you headed in those clothes? And at night?”

“Forgive me but your VFans are pretty much not cutting it in this heat. I was going to catch up on some editing by the pool.”

“Oh, I see someone is beginning to see why I could possibly want to leave Italy.”

“Nothing an air-conditioning can’t fix.”

With his hand behind his back Louis tagged alongside Harry as he strolled out to the pool. Bruce seemed to have heard their voices and stopped barking. 

The pool light was off tonight but the moon was out. The soft light danced on Harry's face, giving it a crepuscular glow. Louis pretended the sight did not stir a whirlpool in his heart. He also pretended the silence that accompanied them was not awkward. In retrospect he didn’t think this plan through all that well.

They approached the pool and he thought quickly. “Can I see that?” he gestured to the IPad under Harry’s arm. The young man surrendered it with a curious twitch.

Louis, who was on the side closer to the pool, switched places with Harry while pretending to look at his work.

“This is good,” he said nudging Harry’s side. 

And it was not a harsh nudge per say, just a tiny jest. But it did the trick as Harry went skating sideways into the pool for the second time.

"Oh!" Harry yelled as he made a splash.

Cradling the IPad, Louis clutched his six-pack and bent over giggling.

"This is funny to you!?" Harry paddled his arms around.

"It is…" Louis giggled heartily. "Despite your aversion to it, that pool seems to like you."

Harry shoved his hair away with the pads of his fingers, and his face shone through with water sparkles on it. His face was in mild panic but he did not beat up so much as last time.

“You pushed me! I'm starting to think you did it on purpose the first time."

“Oh? If every time I bump into, you scream bloody murder then it makes my point that we should stay away from each other,” Louis said arms folded proudly.

Harry remained there soaking, eyes planted on Louis like he had said something horrible.

"What is it now?" Louis tilted his head.

"Nothing," Harry diverted his gaze and looked around at the water scared. "Get me out of here, please."

Smile growing, Louis put the device over on the sun lounger and took his precious time taking off his shirt, one button at a time. Leaving his vest on, he then stripped to his boxers and strolled to the pool edge, smiling to himself as he caught Harry quickly looking away.

He descended in the water, gliding closer to Harry. He took in a breath, fascinated by the highlights in his hair caused by the glimmers from the pool.

“Are you sure you want out? The water is nice tonight,” he did a little dive.

“Really? I knew you wanted to drown me in your pool,” Harry splashed water at him.

Playfully, Louis snatched him by the waist and buoyed him. 

"But seriously you have to learn how to swim."

"No!" Harry shouted, hands on Louis' shoulders. "Not happening!"

Louis giggled. "Should at least know how to float. Come on," he let go of his waist and got to the side of him.

"Louis I don't think this is a good idea," Harry said in a low cautioned voice.

"Just trust me okay? You're gonna be fine," Louis tipped his lower back and tried to steady him as he fell backwards. Harry immediately made himself upright, grabbing on to Louis' neck, not into the idea of floating at all.

"Come on, let's try again." Louis tipped him slower this time.

He got Harry almost horizontal now, his back and neck submerged. Hands still grabbing Louis, he was still afraid to let his head fall back and he was breathing faster as though afraid he'd drown in the very air above the water.

"I got you Harry, you can let go, just breathe." Harry reluctantly eased off of Louis' neck and grinned up at the sky.

It was all peaceful for a few seconds but as soon as his ears went under he jerked himself up again splashing about in tremor. "I don't- I'm done, I'm done!" he said in a shiver.

Taking his waist again, Louis was met with mid-section skin as his T floated up. The supple softness registering, he steered him to the edge, pushing him up from the water by the thighs. His hands made a final heave below the butt and Harry climbed up on the tiled floor.

Louis then took a short swim and climbed out, hair all slicked back from the wet. He grabbed his shirt. One look at Harry wringing his hair out into the water with a worried purse on his lips, and Louis' pupils dilated. He had never felt so endeared with someone. 

Stooping down and placing the shirt around Harry’s carved shoulders, he held his breath, darting his eyes to the house for eavesdroppers. He was going to kiss Harry. He was one-hundred percent sure he was going to do it. He could already taste the chlorine saliva on his lips. 

"Thanks," Harry said, as Louis sat all the way down for comfort to make his move. 

Bruce started yapping again and Harry turned his head that way, away from Louis.

“I better go dry off,” Harry said, just as he was about to lean in. He scrambled to his feet and Louis watched his slender ankles and smooth heels walk away as water streaked down them and flung about.

He looked down at the water between his knees as he kicked his dangled legs in the water, sighing sharp. He was shocked Harry changed his mind about him so fast. 

_ Maybe he finally realized he didn’t want to be with an old Scrooge like me. _

“I’m sorry, are you just gonna let him go like that?”

Louis’ head spun toward the terrace where the question came from.

“Hailee? What are you doing sneaking around the premises?” he realized she was who Bruce was barking at all along.

“I figured if I left it up to you only I’d never get an invitation so I thought I'd come over and apologize to Crystal. Was just about to call her outside when you and Harry emerged. Was going to run away but didn't want to miss the action if I’m being honest.”

Louis flushed in the due light, eyes widening as it dawned on him that she had seen everything.

“Whatever you think you saw back there...” 

Hailee said kindly. “I saw a man who deserves to be happy. And another man who worships the air he breathes.”

Louis sighed. “Am I making a fool of myself here, Hay? I mean I’m way too old for him...” he tried to reason with himself. “You remember what it was like for me? I have never felt attracted to a lot of people. Even the Harrys that I’ve gone out with on dinner dates. There was always something missing. But with him...Everything aligns. He’s smart and so intelligent and he has so much good in him. All of the qualities that make me head over heels attracted to him. Except there’s this one thing that’s in the way; our age difference.”

“So what? You’d be a fool if you think his age should factor in with how you feel about each other.” She stated it frankly, eyes squinted at Louis. “He’s a man who is head over heels for you. Go after him, Louis. You deserve to be with your Harry.”

"But is he my Harry though? You and Niall saw Madam Ruhina. She said Harry was there when I got the reading and that’s why she felt his name over Niall’s. If that's true then this Harry can't be my twin soul. He’s twenty-six. I first came to Rome and got that reading ten years before Harry was even born."

Hailee concentrated on the pool in thought then shook her head at Louis. “I guess it's one of those things we can't explain."

"Hailee, what if my twin soul is still out there? What if he shows up while I'm with this Harry? I doubt he will, but what if? Am I gonna look at him and say 'I didn’t wait for you because I got a younger, shinier Harry'?"

"Does it matter? This Harry loves you and you love him.” She blinked one eye involuntarily and her voice shook, retracing the pain Louis knew the source of. That Niall didn’t choose her, his twin soul. "You're a fool if you're willing to waste the latter half of your life waiting like you did all those years ago."

"I guess you have a point." He lowered his head, coming to inner decision. "I mean, it will take some years for me to groom him into prowess at the company. And while he’s learning the business we could go on platonic dinner dates for a few months after which some light petting can ensue and then move on to other things in the coming years.” His eyes reflected the water twinkles.

He looked at Hailee once again. Her mouth was agape and her eyes large. 

“He’s twenty-six, not sixteen! He doesn’t need to wait for light petting. He’s an adult. He’s ready now.”

Louis gulped.  _ Now... _ That was something he had known and chose to ignore.

"Why'd  _ you _ marry someone so young? I mean I get you and Taylor but what made you both go after Oya?"

"Well we didn't stage auditions to find her if that's why you're thinking. We didn't find Oya, she found us. She came into our lives at a time when neither of us were feeling it anymore. The zest was gone and I was ready to pack."

"So the divorce didn't happen yet?" Louis tried to keep track.

"No. We got divorced later so we could accommodate Oya. The press didn't know about her but of course they took the divorce to a whole new level. -But anyway, Oya was a new photographer and would come over for photoshoots with the models and then she'd bring takeout- she liked our big screen. Then one day while I was dumping the boxes in the kitchen I heard Taylor laugh. I hadn't heard her laugh like that in years. My pressure was just about ready to skyrocket when I turned around and Oya was there, a silly grin, and she kissed me, pulled me into the living room. Now I've had threesomes but that was some next level shit I won't go into detail about but Oya didn't disappear after that. She kept coming over, bringing us food and livening the place. She had this thing she did, she'd make three-way conference calls with us just to say hi. She breathed life back into us. My communication with Taylor before that was shit, but then Taylor started talking to me more about our new dynamic and I told her I was happy that she was happy, and she said she was glad I didn't leave. The past few years were the happiest I've ever been since..." 

Bruce barked out loud cutting across her so that she didn't finish, but she didn't have to. Louis knew.

Louis walked over to the dog and let him run wild.

"I know you’re scared but he adores you," Hailee folded her arms decisively. "It's scary at our age, to start fresh and try new things. But there is nothing to be ashamed of when you share a love like that.”

Taking a deep breath, Louis nodded and thanked her. 

"Look, Hay, about what Eleanor did…" he didn't even know how to begin to apologize.

"I know," Hailee contented herself as they watched Bruce skip about the lawn. "Bitch still has it coming."

Louis stared at her, gulping. 

*

Meanwhile, Harry darted down the hall as fast as he could, as far from Louis as possible even though his entire being was magnetically telling him to go back and kiss the living daylights out of the man. But no, this was the right thing to do. Get away before he embarrassed himself any further. So horny his breathing escalated like a speed bag, he turned the corner to get to his room, and walked right into Nick and Crystal who were both headed for the foyer.

“Harry, what on earth?” Crystal stumbled backwards, chlorine water flicking on her face, “Are you alright?”

“Hey,” Nick steadied Harry from falling on top of her. “I was just coming to meet you. I fixed the problem and now we can head out. But you're not dressed for- oh a nighttime swim, I love your mind! I'll get my trunks and join you, yeah?"

Harry leaned forward as Nick's cold hands gripped his face. That and everything else around him swooped away into a vacuum, leaving only the cologne smell of Louis’ starched white shirt around his slouched body making him feel like he was immersed in clouds.

“I didn't know you two were dating?” Crystal said in a scolding tone, looking from one to the other.

_ Smell. _

“Harry? Are you even hearing me?"

_ Feel. _

“Looks like he’s out of it," Nick summed up. "I’ll take him back to his room.”

Harry forced himself to get back into his senses. “I’m fine,” he willed himself to reply but Crystal was already nodding at Nick and walking off to the foyer and Nick was pulling him the other way to his room.

*

Louis strode through the foyer dripping water on the marble, trousers over one arm, and ended up face to face with Crystal, who was on her way out of the house. To meet her mother, he reckoned. If she was willing to give Hailee a moment of her time then surely she can't still be that angry with him.

“Hey, is everything alright with Nay?” he asked, hoping for a friendly exchange of words.

“Yeah, I just tucked her in," she said, acknowledging his soaking frame with an eyebrow then awkwardly avoiding his eyes. 

He began rambling about Dianna and the expenses of the fashion issue, praying she showed ease. Of course Harry's name entered the one sided conversation too.

“What are you doing to that poor boy?” Crystal said in a sudden bite, her hand lifted off to the side demonstrating the frustration.

Louis cocked his ear. “I beg your pardon?”

“You're wet, he's wet. He’s running around the house in  _ your  _ work shirt.”

Louis closed his eyes in a heavy sigh. “Okay. I can explain. He fell into the pool and started shivering. Nothing happened."

“But that’s just the thing.” Her eyes went wide, unable to temper the rage. “He’s a wreck with the way you toy around with him. Did you know he has a thing with  _ Nick _ ?"

Louis gave his head a little jiggle in reply. "I told him about it."

Crystal made a disgusted noise. "Can’t you see he just wants your approval? Your attention?”

Louis massaged his face. “He wants a lot more than that. I have to admit he grew on me, but I’m not sure I’m the right thing for him."

“Then why tell him not to see other people? Let him go if you can’t accept that he actually wants to be in your world.”

Louis studied the girl he raised. "It frightens me how much you are like your mother sometimes.”

“And it frightens me how different you are from the man I thought I knew," she chided. 

Louis dropped his head low. “I feel terrible about my part in what happened with Hailee. I shouldn’t have told you your mother died.”

“We can’t change the past. What you did was wrong. What Harry did was wrong too but if it wasn’t for him I probably wouldn’t have seen Mama again.”

"Is that- do I have your blessing? If I wanted to…"

With a sigh she nodded and opened her arms for a hug. "I just want you to be happy, Daddy."

Louis' eyes opened wider. He felt guilty to be happy to hear it again, because the only times she called him that were when she was scared. And she hadn’t called him that in years. Not since she went into labor. Literally they were all stuck in traffic on their way to church down Abbey Road when she screamed from the back seat “Daddy!” to which Louis turned around, heart bursting out his chest when she said her water just broke, and Louis and Freddie started shouting and honking down the cars in front of them while Eleanor, Dianna, and his mother squeezed her hand. Louis remembered none of them had their shoes on at the time- they had this family thing they would wait till they parked in the church driveway to put them on- and they all got out of the car barefoot, all holding on to Crystal’s arms taking one step at a time across the hot zebra line to walk to the nearest hospital. If someone had taken a picture they’d have looked like a weird comedic recreation of the iconic Beatles album cover. Everything went smoothly, and after the delivery she wasn’t scared anymore, mostly angry- with Ronan.

Louis knew the thing to do was start making up for his mistakes now. And helping Hailee was the best place to start. 

“Sweetheart, your mother isn't the most rational person when it comes to the people she loves but her intentions are good,” he said, And as for Dustin,”

“-Gregory,” Crystal corrected with a sniffle.

“ _ Gregory _ ,” Louis laughed. “I’m not gonna tell you whether you should forgive him or not. But it would be wise to take into consideration that he is your soulmate."

"I know, it's crazy. It's like that fortune teller is really legit."

"Mine was," Louis said, thinking now was a s good a time as ever to tell Crystal about him and Niall. "A long time ago I met my soulmate. He was my best friend and I loved him dearly. The fortune teller told me the name of my twin soul but she later told Niall that I was his soulmate. We loved each other very very much." He couldn't stop the tears.

"My gosh, I didn't know it was like that between you two. I know he haunts you. The little parts of him I remember haunts me too. I just wish I had more to remember him by."

"You got the best. The very parts of him, Crystal. The way you smile, and when you do that thing with your eyebrows when you're mad. I did what I did because he made me promise him I would take care of you. And would've anyway. I'd walk through hell for you because all I've ever seen you as is my daughter too."

They smiled at each other. "So fortune tellers really are legit then, huh," sighed Crystal.

"I've had years with Niall. You've only known Gregory for like a week. I'm not gonna tell you what to do but all I can say is if you think it's worth it to hear him out then it's okay with me.”

“I’m not so sure if I’m ready to see him again," she grew sullen. "I need time.”

“Okay, baby girl. Take all the time you need. Listen, go easy on your mum okay? Most of what happened is on me."

Crystal nodded then gave him a great big hug and turned away. 

Almost to the door, she turned back. "Daddy?"- Louis was still shocked by it- "If your fortune teller was right about you and Papa, and about Gregory, then Harry being here has to be a sign. I don't know why he took so long to come but it could very well be your twin soul."

Louis pondered it for and smiled at her. She winked at him and went out the front door.

*

"Harry? Are you in there?"

Louis found himself standing a foot in front of Harry's door. Nerves rattling every inch of his body, fighting to keep his breathing steady, wondering if he was making an ass of himself, he placed a hand on the panel.

“I don't mean to disturb you, it's just I can't just leave things the way we did just now. I get the sense I upset you somehow. And that is unacceptable to me because you never get so sulky with me…" he stopped and hoped Harry heard him and opened the door. No footsteps came so he continued speaking.

"You put me out of sorts too," he began, not knowing if Harry was even still awake. "You have no idea how difficult it is for me to be open with just- anybody. The only people that truly know me are my mum and the family Niall and Eleanor gave me," he gently bumped his forehead on the door. “And then I met you and ever since then I don't trust myself like before. I find myself breaking my own rules with you, and that scares me. I'm so scared of the love I feel for you, because after Niall I never thought I'd get the chance again."

Louis started making nervous invisible circles on the door, wondering if he should go and let Harry sleep. He must be sleeping if he isn't answering the door and he's out here talking to himself like an idiot.

“I missed you," the words flooded out, "For the past three years I have missed you...I live with a lot of regrets. Some of them unwarranted, some of them justified. I know I screwed up, but I don't want to know what regretting you is like. I don't want to have to find out. I know I haven’t been so open and it frustrates you, but I'm trying. I can't get there in a day, there is so much baggage from my past it baffles me because ironically my love life is literally so hollow. 

"I want nothing more than to just be younger again so we won't have to think about the consequences of being together. I won’t have to measure our years together by every fast strand of grey that appears in my hair as compared to your slower ones. We can both be young and free… Anyway, I don't give a flying goose about our age difference at the moment, so when you’re ready maybe we can have iced tea by the pool, or perhaps the patio is best if you don’t want to fall in," he smirked, "...so we can talk. Okay, I'll let you sleep now."

And there it was. He figured he'd just say it all and let the leaves fall where they may. "Sweet dreams.” He gave the door a light tap before walking away.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the sonnets in the fic aren’t really fourteen whole lines as sonnets in the definition of the word, I just thought it sounded more fancy and Shakespearean than ‘poem.’ As you can see they are really parts from real songs out there, lol. Billie Eilish’s Ocean Eyes, and Harry Styles’ Falling. I suck at poetry so I used the best lyrics to achieve the desired effect. 
> 
> The invitation is open for art and stuff for this fic if you are talented in that area, I’m never lucky asking people directly so I’m saying it here just dm me on twitter so I can add it. Also if you want to recommend this fic on stan twitter I’m @joydific_18


	16. chapter fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter u guys have been waiting for hahaha. Gosh I hope it is ok. In some places there is an intentional shift in Harry’s pronouns so don't be alarmed when u see it. Sorry I'm late with this, I overexerted myself and was drained. You guys must have thought I abandoned the fic but no way! I'm excited for you to read the rest of it especially the conclusion which I will not make u wait for too long. Please comment it makes me feel the excitement with you all.

**_A bond between old souls is ancient, older than the planet~ Dianna Hardy._ **

Harry sat as still as a shoe-billed stork, one hand clamped down on the bed and the other pressed damp over Nick’s mouth as heavy breaths crashed from the man’s nose, joining the sweat on Harry's fingers. His body was angled precariously as he had paused from being about to kiss Harry, who had lost his wet trunks and was in nothing but the shirt and a thong as he listened to Louis' voice outside the door. 

Each word was clearer than the one before. Each sentence grew deeper and more personal, allowing him the time to breathe normally again but never to let go of Nick's mouth- Nick didn't protest, equally engrossed in what the man was saying.

Harry was shocked. Louis was finally saying it. All the things he wanted to hear for…-he didn't know how long...to the door.

Then Louis was gone and Harry had to look Nick in the eye. 

He mumbled something, he was not sure what, but it had to be something like ‘I- um- I think we-” which Nick spoke at the same time with; “Uh- yeah- I’ll just-go,” and he grabbed his shirt and dived out. 

Harry did not move from the bed right away, he froze, deliberating if what the heck just happened was real. 

It didn't take long. In the next few minutes Harry was hopping off the bed and rushedly raking his hands through his hair, trying to make it look like he wasn’t just about to rumble with his co-worker, and dashing out the door. He was already out the door when he dashed back in for a second to grab the sealed tube of lubricant on the bed and dash back out again.

*

**Harry POV**

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"Harry?" Louis froze at the door, seeing Harry’s missing shorts. "What are you-?"

“Listen to me, I’m in no mood for games," Harry commanded politely, out of breath, "You either let me in, or let me go."

Louis’ face was purely baffled. Harry swallowed and dragged his eyes all over it, causing the man’s demeanor to shift to an enlightened one.

"You heard what I said, didn’t you?” Louis asked, turning his eyes to focus on scraping some invisible speckle off the edge of the door.

Harry nodded in reply, trying like hell not to let out a needy hum. 

Louis glanced to receive it, resuming his scraping. “Why didn’t you open the door?”

“Why were you talking to the door?" Harry countered, gripping the tube in his hand guiltily, contemplating whether to hide it behind his back before catching his composure. Before he could decide Louis’ eyes caught it. Harry saw the little excitement on the man's face die in the blink of an eye.

"Are you- what do you plan on doing with that?" 

"You tell me."

"I said we should have tea, Harry, I’m not gonna just bed you. I have more class than that."

"Fuck your class. If you reject me, there’s another room in this house I can go to." Harry held the tube at the cork and flapped it feistily on his other palm. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Louis forehead vein protruded.

"I'm sorry but you can't tell me what to do with my body. Not unless you have something fun in mind. I am extremely horny right now and I want to come in. You said you wanted this, so...” He saw the anger rise in Louis, and felt a sinister satisfaction out of making him think if he rejected him now he wasn’t going to spend the rest of the night alone.

"You don't want to do this."

"Don't tell me what I want."

“If you were listening then you heard I can’t be rushed!”

“I like it slow,” said Harry in a sensual English bur.

Louis clenched his jaw and they stood there staring at each other, and Harry might have idled a bit longer if not for the growing tension in his body that needed immediate attention, but since the man clearly did not want to do anything further than talking, and made no move to crack the door wider, Harry shifted to walk off. He was not going to the guest house, he was about to go wank off with the lube, but just as he moved, there were footsteps cornering the kitchen, and he froze. 

That was when Louis moved. He felt cold hands on his shoulder and before he knew it, he was pulled in and shoved back-first against the door that shut behind him. 

The room was dim with the least light adjustment on the lamp. Louis had a hand shoved out, pressing his palm into the wall beside Harry . Eyebrows knitting, he moved closer to Harry, pressing the other palm into the wall so Harry had no place to go but down. Harry was close enough to see the pores on his cheeks, almost close enough for the tips of their noses to touch, but he wished he could go down.

"I know you don't want him," Louis looked Harry dead in the eye, bringing down a hand to the end of Harry's shirt, the back of his hand slightly brushed his _very_ -upper leg, and Harry nearly ignited. "I know you're not going to have sex with him in my shirt." Louis gently tugged the hemming below where the buttons met.

Harry shut his eyes. _Oh shit._ He was still wearing Louis' shirt.

“I was going to take it off," muttered Harry. "Do you want it now?” The question was direct and double meaning. Harry couldn’t help but hear the _me_ that stood silently underneath the _it._

"It's late, you should go get some sleep." Louis whispered in Harry's ear sending him panting weakly. "You have work in the morning." He moved away from Harry to make room for the door to open.

Harry did not move. "Take me to bed with you," he said, aware he was beginning to sound desperate.

Louis turned around, turning his back on Harry to sigh loudly at the ceiling.

"Tell me what you want," Harry pleaded. "I can be whatever you want. Whatever you're into."

Louis stopped dead in his tracks and turned back around.

Harry stopped feeling his toes. He gazed at the man, sure he was contemplating it. To kick things off Harry began to slowly unbutton the shirt, eyes never leaving Louis. When he was down to the last one he paused, waiting for permission to undo it.

Eyes wide and body shaking, Louis came out of his trance and shot his arm toward the door. “Get out.” Harry huffed and wiggled in frustration as Louis stomped away to the bed.

“I told you there were company rules," Louis grabbed the pillows and started to fluff them assertively. "I can’t just ignore them. We have to be careful and strategic."

"Oh, please," Harry said spicily, eyeing the dark green silk sheet set. "You and I both know we passed the stage for _tea on the patio._ You made me wait long enough. I have no problem taking things slow in every other department but sex. How many times am I to make a fool of myself for you to see that?" Harry implored on the verge of tears as he held the lube and the edge of his shirt in both hands, tiptoeing agitatedly on one foot. "Just take me to bed, Louis."

Louis froze as though he were caught in musical chairs. He turned and reached Harry again, holding the sides of his head firm but gentle.

“Why is my touch so important to you?” he asked, looking deep into his eyes for the answer.

"I don’t know, but I’ve wanted only your hands on me for three years now. If you want me to beg, I will," Harry said softly, his eyes shrouded in a layer of tears.

From the look in the man’s eye he was sure he was about to kiss him and let the night begin but in the flash of a second Louis took backward steps until he reached the adjacent wall and with one longing look at Harry he turned and broke down. He banged clenched fists, forehead to the wall.

“I'm so afraid of ruining your life, Harry,” he sobbed.

“You won't. You told me in the Lamure I should wait for someone special. I did. And it's you. I’ve been so lost chasing life not knowing where to rest my head or what my purpose is. Then I met you and you gave me this speech about not taking the easy way out and you drilled it into me what it was to go after what I really want. You inspired me. You don’t have to be scared if I'm what you want.” Harry’s voice descended into sobs in the last sentence.

“I can’t. Please go.”

"You don’t want me to leave. You want me here otherwise you wouldn't have gone to my door,” Harry walked over and touched his back. 

“Don’t,” Louis shrugged away. “I can’t be this selfish.”

“Be selfish for once,” Harry strained, moving his hand. “Be selfish with me."

“Please go.” Louis' voice got strained and fine.

Harry took two steps back and lingered. He really did not want to leave Louis in this state. He felt a little responsible for it.

"Fifty,” Harry after some thought on how to repair things.

Louis did not look up right away, he shuffled waiting for Harry to finish but then after a beat he looked around with a raised eyebrow like _'fifty what- Carrots?'_

Harry giggled at the comedy of it. "I'm not in my forties anymore, fifty now.”

It hit Louis what Harry meant, and he snorted at the effort. “But you’re not though, are you?”

 _Okay_. “How old are you?”

Louis didn’t reply, just sniffled into the wall like his face was stuck to it. Harry knew he was probably confused by the seemingly dumb question.

“Tell me, love, how old would you be if you didn’t know your age?”

Louis let in a sharp sniffle in response and there was deafening silence for what felt like eons. Until...

“Eighteen," Louis voiced. "I’m eighteen and I met you right after the gypsy said it, not twenty-three like I thought I’d be, I didn’t have to wait that long. I’m eighteen and as soon as we laid eyes on each other we walked down the cobblestone streets and you almost tripped I caught you and carried you the rest of the way until we reached the bridge and then you kissed me and we told each other everything that happened before we met and we live so very happily ever after.”

Hearing all that, Harry broke out in a relieved laugh. “So I’m older than you but you’re still smarter.”

Louis couldn’t help but laugh at that nonsense but he did not move from his position on the wall, and Harry decided that nothing was going to happen between them tonight. 

"I'll just go," he said, fumbling to button back the shirt. "If you need to talk you know where to find me."

“Don’t,'' Louis was facing him now. He glanced down Harry's front. “I don’t want you to button it back."

Harry had almost yelled in protest assuming he wanted his shirt back but then the man was striding up to him. A shivering hand to his face, Harry saw the dim room fade in the shadow of the man’s frame as he closed in. 

“Why didn't you let me kiss you by the pool?”

“Because of what you said. You hate Harry. My name being Harry brought back up a lot of pain for you and I thought I was making things worse by coming on to you.” 

Louis' lips crashed into Harry's lips. A surprised moan released from Harry's mouth and he sensed the end of the shirt being tugged on. His body collided with Louis in the same fashion as their lips and he heard the small whip as the shirt hit the floor. A pair of nervous but passionate hands slid around his midsection and he realized the man wasn’t interested in the shirt at all. Harry’s heart leapt as he tasted Louis' tongue, and felt plush warmth hit him on the lips and nose. He was so close to Louis he felt the wet of his tears on his own cheeks, and the heat of Louis' pelvis merging with his own wanting groin. Louis' heartbeat blended in with his and the sturdy force of the older man's arms encompassed his entire being, wrapping him in safety and stability. It was hard to comprehend that this was the same man that minutes before portrayed fear and weakness.

Harry dared to open his eyes. Louis’ were shut and serious with deeply furrowed brows concentrated on kissing him. It was like his tongue didn’t know where to settle, swiping every surface area it could feel, tasting every essence of Harry it could gather. As they sank further into each other’s arms the kiss grew somewhat steady and languid, Louis finding a grounding with his movements, going slower and more directed. Louis' breathing took the brunt of it all. Harry could feel his heavy breaths beat against his cheeks. Harry's own breath somehow disappeared in the fray, and it was then he realized he needed air.

Pushing away slightly to take a deep exhale, Harry grinned into his neck. Hands planted on his chest and eyes looking up at the man to let him know he was happy with what just happened, Harry hoped it wasn’t over. He would grow so mad at himself for stopping it so soon if the man dared to pull away from their riveting moment.

“You make things difficult, but what’s painful is having to pretend I feel nothing for you in front of everyone else.”

Harry hugged him. A simple, strong embrace to communicate how glad he was to be in his arms finally. Louis' mouth planted in his hair a hard long kiss and Harry welcomed a rush of something new, something strong between them. The feeling took him back to the night in the hotel room when the man had taken his hands and didn’t want to let go. When he had looked at him one way and sworn another in that they should wait. But this time Harry didn’t think he was strong enough to let himself wait. Wait for what? For him to stand him up again and change his mind or go back to pretending they were merely boss and employee? Harry wanted so much more than that, he felt he deserved more than that. They both did.

Together. That’s what they should be.

Louis scooped him up effortlessly, holding Harry’s hips as his legs wrapped around his waist.

Harry felt himself make gentle contact with the bed as Louis lay him on the dark silk, the lube tube falling on the mattress. Louis stood on the edge of the bed, unbuckling his trousers with shaking hands. He seemed to be moving off pure adrenaline, no knowledge of his next move. 

Taking charge, Harry got up on his knees and started lifting Louis’ vest until his abdominals were exposed. The view of his well chiseled mounds of flesh caused a series of uncontrollable gasps to escape Harry’s mouth. He had never been in the presence of such a man. Everything about him was perfect to Harry. From his salt and pepper hair, to his smooth chest hairs, to the way his hard abs faded into his pelvis in a perfect V cut that framed his still hidden cock.

Harry swallowed hard, running his fingers over his torso. “I’ve waited so long to touch you. To see you like this.” 

Louis leaned in for a kiss, bringing his knees on the bed and pressing both hands over Harry's ears.

“Touch me.” Harry took his hands in his and pulled him slowly to the bed, eyes never diverting away from the cerulean orbs. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”

He got a rapid blink from the man, whose hands seemed to fall helpless like a rag doll in his grip. Harry pulled Louis' underwear down gently. Louis let him with upped breaths. He cupped Harry's cheeks, fingers trembling. Harry felt every frightened shiver.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it." Harry took his solid cock in his palm and stroked it slow. He saw and felt the rampage going on in Louis at the gesture. The man was fighting not to pull away and run. It was almost as if... 

“You don’t touch yourself?” Harry had to ask.

Louis' eyebrow shot up high, his eyes glaring into Harry. “I’m not a masochist, Harry. Of course I jerk off.” 

“Okay,” Harry replied, sensing his impatience with the question. The last thing he wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable or make him close back up again.

“And I watch porn on occasion,” Louis quickly added.

“What do you watch?” Harry asked, stifling a giggle at his defensiveness. “Tell me what you want and I’ll take care of you.”

“I just want you,” Louis said, creases appearing under his eyes. He smoothed the back of his hands on Harry’s cheeks. They felt cold against his warm skin. He then planted a hard kiss on Harry, applying rigorous tongue, making Harry moan as he leaned back.

Eyes filled with emotion, Louis continued to chase his tongue. He trailed down Harry’s neck, licking both sides before going to his chest and nipples, unrushed. Harry made whiny noises as Louis went down past his belly button, stopping before he reached the thing. Even though Harry was ready for anything, he worried if Louis' new confidence was going to last.

"We don't have to have sex," he breathed in his ear, leaving tiny pecks along his lobe, making Louis hum. "This can go as far as you want it to go.”

"I want you. So bad," Louis admitted with a pause, easing away from him. “But.”

"No, no buts. Please." Harry wanted him to take it slow, not completely shut down.

Louis gripped his shoulders. "I can't. It's wrong, Harry. I’m all wrong for you." He spun around, charging off the bed, his back to Harry.

Harry nodded, angry the man was still having a moral struggle.

"Then let me go," Harry said dryly, sitting up on the bed. "I make you uncomfortable, you make me uneasy. I can get another job." Harry nearly tripped, flying off the bed to pick up the shirt from the floor.

"Don't be stupid," Louis skated back to the bed, stopping him from getting up. "You belong at _IColorture_."

Harry yanked his arm away, grabbing the shirt and shoving his arms in the sleeves. "Denying what you feel for me? That's what's stupid. How on earth are we going to get past all of this? How are we going to forget the _Lamure_ if I stay?" Harry shook his head in frustration, his eyes settling in conclusion. "I have no choice but to leave."

Louis was beside himself with fright. "No," he pulled Harry by the waist and swung him back onto the bed. "You're not leaving. That's not an option."

Grasping onto Louis' arms, Harry's voice broke down. "I can't stay. I'm in love with you and you’re struggling with things. I can't be around you. I mess things up, not taking no for an answer. I always make a fool of myself. This whole thing is a disaster."

"No," Louis answered again, "I need you." The naked man began to cry, taking Harry’s hands up in his and running his thumb in the palms frantically. Harry saw just how fragile he was. But Harry’s heart was fragile too and he had to stop the game somewhere.

"Louis, I can barely breathe around you. You look at me and I feel like little whistles blowing all over me, tickling me, teasing me. I can't do this. It's torture."

Louis' hand stayed in place.

"Let me go," Harry said again, ruffling the covers for something to do to distract the man into letting go. "If I can't be with you then I need to go where I can have time to get over you and move on. I can't do that here."

"That's not fair. I'm not going to let you quit your job because of me. Stay, Harry. We'll figure this out. Just don't go, please." Louis leaned over and wrapped his arms around him. "I promise you it'll be okay."

Harry let out his sobs in convulsions as Louis held him. His groin still in need, he gently pushed Louis off and started buttoning his shirt back up all the way. Climbing off the bed, he tucked his hair behind his ear and pulled the shirt downward to cover his pelvis, thinking how ridiculous he must look.

"This isn’t going to work. It’s not appropriate and I see that now...” Harry let the words fade as he made his way to the door, the lube still somewhere in Louis’ bed sheets.

Harry was restrained by Louis' hand on his wrist and the sound of his voice saying "wait.”

Louis swung him around like they were dancing and held his waist, his forehead merging with Harry’s. He started swaying in a slow walk, forcing Harry backwards with every step, his breath on the tip of his nose. Harry knew the man was not capable of taking advantage of him but something about his older, dominant presence painted Harry with a sense of frailty and he wanted to melt into him. It was like they were in a trance, staring at every aspect of each other’s face, learning what every cell memorized over its lifespan. The thing that brought them out of it was Harry bumping into the curtains by the door sized window.

The bump made Louis' eyes go wide, seeming to trigger something in Louis. Harry realized it was the sound of the back of his head colliding with the glass that made Louis panic. The strange thing was Harry didn’t feel it at all. It was a light thud, nothing to be alarmed about, but Harry was surprised at himself that he didn’t notice it too. And it both surprised and endeared him how the man remembered and showed concern.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” he reassured, eyes moving about Louis’ worried face.

“I’m not,” was Louis’ response to that, crisp yet resounding. He clasped the sides of Harry's head.

But before Harry had a chance to form a response, Louis was dropping down on his knees and lifting the sides of the shirt up to the top of his hips. Kissing them in a continuous swirl from one hip to the other, he looked up for unspoken permission that could only be sought for one thing; to hike the shirt up higher and pull the thong down.

Knowing Louis was about to connect his lips to his groin, Harry nodded in a heavy release of breath that followed with tears appearing out of nowhere. 

Louis took his permission and started sliding the thong down to Harry's knees, eyes on his. 

Harry allowed Louis to kiss him, on his length and on his tip, little dry pecks except for the pre-come that met his lips, which he carried around elsewhere. The man continued, the pecks growing deeper and wetter until he was full-out blowing a rock-hard Harry and sucking on his scrotum at short intervals, his head moving in dips from the right side to the left. The feel of it all was so good and overwhelming that Harry could only grip the hair at the top of the man’s head and make involuntary cat-like whines.

He saw Louis look up to peek at what the reaction he was having; his eyes rolled back and his body tensed in pure ecstasy. 

Soon, Louis rose to his feet again. He gave Harry a rough and unabashed kiss. The thing was fiery and possessive and Harry's hardness scorched as the man moved him to the bed.

Harry's calves jammed the mattress edge.

"Pronouns," Louis ran a finger on Harry’s chin. The demand sent off fireworks in Harry and suddenly he felt like the whole world was in celebration. The man stared at him so serious and _down to business_ Harry lost his damn tongue.

"Uh-uh- whatever the fuck you want," came out of Harry’s mouth before he even thought it.

Louis' face did not change. "That's not how it works. Bear in mind any answer you give is the right answer, so don’t lie.”

“Make a guess,” Harry locked his arms around Louis’ shoulders.

Louis moved his gaze up Harry's forehead and began to caress away the sweaty hair plastered there. When he was done he lowered his eyes again, and with a gentle grip on his ears once more, he said, "She." He ran a thumb over his lips, partially opening them, "Her."

Harry immediately fell into a rapid panting in jubilation as though now allowed to breath for the first time. Definitely leaning more on that end of the spectrum today, he wanted to give Louis something special for guessing right. He lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed and gave Louis’ cock one lick straight up the length, eyes provokingly looking up at the man. Louis was thick, and Harry's mouth began to water just imagining blowing him. 

Happy that Louis was no longer apprehensive, Harry mouthed him and began to suck Louis off like a lolly on a hot day, slow, then faster, not pausing until he heard moaning. Then Harry looked up and saw Louis’ eyes tightly shut in ecstasy. Louis opened them when he realized Harry stopped, and he looked; Harry’s eyes were focused on him almost pleading, asking if he wanted to fuck into his mouth. It took Louis a few beats to understand and then he was holding Harry's chin trying to measure if it would be safe.

“You sure,” he said in a tiny horse whisper, eyes hesitantly on the last inch and a half outside of Harry’s mouth. Harry hummed a sure agreement and sucked harder. Louis began to move in slow circles, hands pressed on the sides of Harry’s head for stability. Harry swallowed his gags, eyes watering, nostrils wide grazing the hair above Louis' cock. Tongue playing on the man's leaking tip, he invited Louis to thrust harder. It was not long before Harry couldn’t take it anymore, and Louis pulled out, still hard. 

They fell on the bed together, Harry trying his best to slither backwards without releasing his grip of Louis’ shoulder, pulling him along with him. The older man followed, pecking him on the lips as they settled on some pillows that lay scattered against the headboard. Harry could feel his pre-come and the remaining saliva rubbing against her inner thigh as Louis breathed in her ear.

Louis leaned in and connected their foreheads making them both close their eyes with the heat it conjured. Harry leaned his chin up and took Louis' mouth in his once again, letting out a tiny needy moan as his chin clashed with Louis’ fresh shave-stubs. This seemed to entice the older man who kissed him back with vigor and lust, adjusting his body closer into the groove of Harry's gradually opening legs. 

Between hot kisses, Louis told him to stay in every sentence structure possible to communicate such a thing. And in turn, Harry promised him.

Guiding Louis' hand to the places behind his scrotum, Harry let him take in the feel of his twitchy rim. Louis smiled, Harry’s hair tickling her as his lips left little kisses on his shoulder and chest. Harry could feel the sharp nervous breaths from his nostrils with each kiss.

"Do you have any idea the things you do to me?" asked Louis, eyes glazed.

"Show me," Harry whispered, still in the shirt, mouth still hungry for Louis' massively sculpted hardness.

A smile broke out on the man's face as he dipped back in for a kiss on an equally smiling Harry. 

“Did you bring any condoms?”

“Fuck, Louis, you can trust me, I haven’t been with anyone in years.”

“Neither have I,” Louis smoothed Harry’s forehead and Harry closed his eyes to the warm feel. Louis reconnected their hands, squeezing as hard as possible to carry across how nervous he was. 

Harry pulled the man's face off of his and stared into his eyes, breathing; "It's okay." If Louis had not been looking at him he might not have heard it. 

With a happy, nervous smile, Louis crouched over and started wildly and shakily unbuttoning the rest of the shirt. Harry quickly took cue and undid the rest. Louis slid it off with flat palms, feeling the tiny nipples and down Harry’s torso which had been hidden before. 

His hands were warm and sensual. Powerful and tender. Harry saw the look of passion beaming in his eyes, as though what he saw had satisfied his every expectation of what Harry would look like completely naked, just as he had fulfilled Harry’s. Harry felt beautiful and light under him, and however far he’d go Harry would comply.

A flash of uncertainty crossed the man's face and Harry grew afraid he was on the verge of pulling back.

"It’s okay," Harry whispered again desperately. "We're together now, no more waiting. Just touching.” 

Louis shoved the shirt down the rest of the way and shuffled it off Harry's arms. Harry's legs wrapped around Louis' for fear he'd run away. He sensually sucked the side of Louis' neck and ground into him as the man's breath grew faster, not being able to withstand much longer.

“Do you want me to give you another blowjob?” Harry asked politely. He had been looking forward to at least that and knew he was going to have to continue leading things somehow.

“I want,” Louis tried to even out his breathing. “I want everything. Fuck, Harry,” Louis dipped his face in the crook of his neck and raised it back up. “I want to taste you.” He watched Harry’s eyes go excited. “I wanna know what you taste like.”

Harry giggled. “You already did,” he said, eyes moving to Louis’ mouth with a grin at the after-pleasure..

“No. Not just there.” His serious gaze lingered on Harry waiting for him to understand. After a few beats Harry grew a mischievous grin.

“Okay,” he said simply, but his lips gave a single nervous contraction.

Knowing what was about to happen, Harry turned over and adjusted himself in a bent over position, stuffing a pillow under his pelvis for support. The lights were dim but he could still hear Louis’ nervous, happy gasps at the sight of his exposed behind.

“Hm,” Harry moaned as the first kiss brushed him on the left butt cheek. The second one hit him on the right and he felt his warm tongue trail a few centimetres down his leg. 

Firm hands gripped his cheeks to spread them apart, and a hot tongue widely licked the valley between. Harry clenched and grabbed the sheets with the unexpected sensation.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Louis' voice came in a caring whisper. Then he felt his lips again, tenser. And his tongue was now licking him, trying to get inside. Harry let his upper body droop and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax enough to open and let his tongue inside. The man’s kissing didn’t take any time at all to turn deep and greedier. He was soon licking and sucking with a fervor that made Harry sure he was going to come soon if it continued.

“Please,” he said, now wide open with the man’s tongue an inch inside, digging away at his rim in the most intimately candid way. Somewhere in the fray a finger had gotten involved and it was making him burn with need.

Louis stopped almost immediately, crawling over to whisper in his ear, “You want me to stop?”

“No, I need you. Please fuck me,” Harry groaned out, trying to caress his face with Louis’ facial hair.

“I want that too. But in a minute.”

“What?” Harry rang out in surprise and irritation.

“Don’t you want me to do this properly?” Louis kissed the ball of his shoulder. “I wanna learn what you taste like.” he passed his hand between Harry’s legs and licked again. “Is that mint and...?” As he said it, his fingers slipped inside of Harry, and he let out a shrill gasp.

“Strawberry,” Harry almost yelled out in pleasure at the feel of his fingers moving slowly inside him. He had gotten some olive oil based bath scents from the market down the road and mixed them in his routine. It was the first time trying this particular combination so he was a bit nervous for Louis to smell it. 

“ _Strawberry,_ ” Louis crooned in a smoky voice, his hot breath and the cool fan breeze both tickling Harry’s butt and making him shiver. “So good. I want to learn them so I can smell you when you're ten feet away from me and taste you even when you’re not around.”

 _Fuck,_ Harry thought as the fingers grew focused and more intense, making him feel like he was losing his mind. The man was making him so bloody horny and wetter. Harry grabbed onto his own member and started masturbating.

Louis let out a gleeful, sibilant giggle and finally pulled his fingers out. The wet fingers then took hold of Harry’s hand and moved it away from his member. “I want to be the only hands that make you come.”

On hearing that naughty piece of information, Harry’s groans grew convulsive and needy. Louis then slid back behind, resuming his rimming. He pushed his tongue in and moved it around powerfully, making hot love to her hole, and all Harry could do is moan, push herself backwards into Louis’ face and grab on to the mattress until her hands were numb.

Harry heard himself sniffle, and then as if it were a reaction to that, the sound of a cork opening and liquid squirting took over. He felt the cold gel smear her hole. Louis clenched Harry's waist with both hands and pressed his cock in slowly. Harry let out an impacted groan as Louis popped in. Louis' breath fluttered in uneven bobs as he pushed further inside the soft walls of Harry's body.

"Harry," Louis squealed, as he felt the tightness of her muscles clasp around the shaft of his cock. 

"Harry?" he moaned out again as Harry began to slowly move up and down on him, adjusting herself to his hot length. Louis picked up the pace, breathing heavily on her shoulder.

“Are you sure this is...”

"You know this is what I want. What we both want," Harry reassured, his voice almost muffled into the pillow. "Please say it for me." He began to move his arse, fluttering like a butterfly over Louis’ cock. Now up on his knees, Louis looked on in shock, drooling over the sight of his sturdy cock appearing and disappearing inside the soft thrusting flesh.

"I want you so bad," Louis groaned out, trying to move together with Harry’s growing pace. The carnal desire was powerful, and his breath lashed against the lithe skin of Harry’s cheekbones, causing the sensations to heighten. 

Soon the sex escalated with hard slapping noises as they enjoyed a raw heat-filled pounding unbothered by the cool fan. The smell of Harry's body oils and the sweetness of the fluttering made Louis forget what species he was. 

Louis cried in broken groans as his tip repeatedly hit Harry’s prostate. Harry bent over at a steeper angle taking his massive length, cheeks dragging against the mattress. The creaking of the bed seemed to echo through the room, and the headboard mildly thudded into the wall in tandem with their thrusting. Louis kept fucking hard and pulling out every now then to ogle at the gaping hole before repeating.

After a few more deliberately rough thrusts, Louis' mouth fell open **;** Harry was clenching his width hard, body going dead rigid, face screwed in a painful expression as she finally came in large spurts on the pillowcase. Louis mumbled a curse word, bringing his hand to touch her draining tip. 

Harry's shuddering, softening member made Louis more hot and he started pounding rougher. Harry cried with pain and pleasure, the little pink inside-flesh of her rim spreading around Louis’ penis every time he pulled out with the pressure of the pumping. Harry couldn’t find her voice, weak and hoarse from moaning and gasping as her hole girthed around Louis’ sturdy length.

Sweat dripped down from Louis’ nose into Harry’s hair, the sweet pleasure growing stronger, and just as Harry was about to twerk into the new thrush, massive heat covered her prostate. 

A few more thrusts, Orgasm shivering through his body, Louis exploded inside the stretched hole, dropping down on Harry, high pitched groans and heavy panting flooding out of both of them. 

"Fuck, that was…" was all Louis could manage to say before kissing Harry's moist shoulder repeatedly. Harry's reaction to her met sexual gratification was to lay belly down on the rumpled sheets and whimper silently. 

Louis, seeing this mind-broken state, rolled over and held Harry as tight and lovingly as he could.

*

**Louis pov**

It was twenty past six o’clock in the morning when Louis felt Harry move beside him. After a break from the first round they had continued making love for what he calculated as four hours and cut off when Harry became weak and unresponsive only moaning faintly when spoken to. Louis had cleaned him up with a damp cloth and put him on the white linen under the silk covers to rest and had spent the rest of the night staring at him with a mix of emotions; joy, worry, protectiveness. 

Harry woke on the left side of the bed, shafts of sunlight coming in on him and Louis. Clutching his pillow, a smile stretched across Harry's face at the peaceful call of the birds outside. He rolled over and tucked himself in Louis’ arms. Louis felt Harry’s lashes play at his cheek and he giggled and propped himself up on his elbow and kissed him after running a thumb over his grinning bottom lip. He then grabbed the sheet and rolled onto Harry, carrying the sheets over their heads. Louis’ neat hair had ruffled forward overnight into a rough French crop and Harry playfully grabbed the front.

"How are you feeling today?" Louis breathed into his neck.

"Totally fucked out of my mind." Harry tilted his head to make eye contact.

"A good feeling I hope?" Louis looked up into his eyes

"So good," groaned Harry.

“I have something for you," Louis turned the other way and reached under the bed, his arse crack in view. Harry bit his lips and stifled a giggle at his luck last night. Pulling out a notebook, he turned the pages to one with new scribbles.

"I was going to give it to you much further down the road but since we skipped the courting... Listen to this,” he moved closer to Harry.

_“It’s a church of burnt romances and I’m far too gone to pray._

_It’s a solo song and it’s only for the brave._

_Nothing makes you hurt like hurtin' who you love_

_And no amount of words will ever be enough_

_I looked you in the eyes, saw that I was lost_

_For every question "why", you were my "because""_

Harry laughed and waited until Louis closed the book. “I don’t know that one. You gonna tell me who wrote that?”

“I did.”

Harry arched an impressed eyebrow.

"Hold on I got more," Louis got up butt naked and tiptoed to his dresser and pulled out a few scrolls of parchment. Bouncing back into bed, he rolled one out with the curly side down and asked Harry to read it. While turning it over to see, Harry asked why he wrote at the back of it instead of the front, and laughed when he saw it was the one he had written on first. 

"Can I?" he gestured to the glasses case on the nightstand on Louis’ side of the bed.

Louis grabbed it and opened it, wiping the glasses with the bedsheets. "You wear these too?" He gave them to Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled, peering at him through them. “Sometimes.”

He then began to read out loud.

_"I'll tell the truth lyin' next to you_

_'Cause you're the only one when it's said and done_

_You make me feel like being someone good to you_

_Even at your worst, you steal the scene and it's unrehearsed_

_Don't you wanna dance? Just a little dance_

_I'll never stop given half the chance,_

_Somehow ever since I've been around you_

_Can't go back to being on my own_

_Can't help feeling since I've found you_

_That I've found my home_

_That I'm finally home_

_You never do, but if you asked me to…_

“This is so beautiful,” Harry gushed. “I can imagine you writing this with your quill and your cute glasses.”

A frown fell on Louis’ face. “Cute?”

“Yeah, I think they’re cute on you. I like seeing you in them but for some reason you keep taking them off.”

Louis blushed. “I’ve been wearing them for years now. One day I was going over a manuscript and couldn't see after like, five hundred words.”

“Oh, I have the same problem. I like them on you, though. Sexy,” teased Harry, kissing him.

"They make _you_ look like a professor," Louis kissed him back. "Proper older." He picked up his cell phone and snapped a picture of Harry with the spectacles then took them off Harry and put them back in the case as Harry giggled and hit him. Harry grabbed the phone and pushed him down on the bed. He snapped a few of Louis laying there then chose one he liked to send to his own phone back in his room. Louis asked him if he was satisfied then pulled him down beside him again and they were once again under the blanket tracing each other's skin, silently memorizing every feature of the other's face.

"I do feel a bit more on the masculine side today. I want nothing to do with thongs."

Louis laughed then his eyes went dreamy. Harry saw a flash of shadow overcome them as the covers were dragged over their heads, and Louis climbed over Harry to kiss him.

“What are you doing?" Harry asked, surprised by the disappearing room.

“Making a bubble.”

Harry let out a quizzical laugh but Louis was serious. “Please tell me this is right. I feel like somehow I'm taking advantage of you. Like I'm ruining you for someone younger who can make you happy."

"Nothing ever felt more right for me.”

"There is so much I wish I could give you; my youth first of all..." 

Harry pressed his sweaty fingers on his cheeks, maintaining eye contact, his own eyes wet and dilated. "Then I give you mine. It's enough for us both. I'll make sure of it. My entire life is yours, Louis."

This Harry wanted him. This Harry needed him and held on to him for dear life. Why shouldn’t he take him?

“I know I wasn’t there but I still feel it, Louis. I still feel the frustration of not having each other before, as if I were there through it all, feeling your loneliness with you. I can’t explain it but from the day we met I felt like I belonged with you. You loved this person named Harry for years without knowing what he looked like or sounded… I know it's impossible but I feel like it's me and I'm here now."

Louis nodded. "I'm so sorry I made us lose three years. I waited until the Finch buzz petered before I requested you again but they said you quit and they couldn't give out your personal info because of confidentiality. When I saw you in the deli I froze but as soon as I drove off I regretted not taking your number and asking to meet somewhere."

Harry grinned. "Seeing me everyday after that obviously made up for it."

Louis laughed. “Since you walked back into my life I’ve been so nervous around you, trying so hard to ignore my instincts that told me to just whisk you away and kiss you until you beg me to stop. After I left the hotel Lamure, after I realized I couldn’t meet you again, I was so discouraged and so lost. I gave up and decided that I wouldn’t seek after pleasures of that sort. It's why I was so uneasy around you. You bring out that need in me. To be as free as I was in that suite. I was so chaotic the past few months with you here. Now that we made love it’s like all of it is channeled into the right place and I can see so much more clearly now.” Louis smiled rubbing little ovals on his shoulder ball joint. “We can stay here in our bubble and forget the world. Forget _IColorture_ and just be together.”

"If you want us to be a secret, if you think it's best I can do it. I don't mind waiting to tell people."

Louis' finger softly tracing Harry's jaw and his thumb brushing his chin, he stared into those green, shining eyes. "I don't want to hide this."

They remained silent for minutes, green meeting blue.

Lost in the intensity of it, Harry was soon sliding down to Louis' privates, taking him in his mouth with pressure. Louis giggled and let it dissolve into hisses of desire. Harry sucked him intensely until he began to precome and then Harry slowly sank himself down on his orally lubricated cock.

Harry writhed, working on the heat of his stretch, and Louis placed his hands on Harry's lower back for balance. Harry rode him slow, looking into his eyes. Louis' eyes brimmed with tears of bliss as he looked back at him, one hand stroking Harry's cock and the other on his lower back. 

Louis brought his own knees up on the bed and leaned forward for a kiss. Disappointed he lost some penetrative length but excited to have Louis' kiss, Harry gripped onto the back of his neck, his tongue searching for companionship. Louis leaned further in to stabilize himself enough to force back in, feeling himself sink deeper into Harry and embracing the kiss with moans and sweet nothing whispers.

"You're a good girl, Harry, but you are a naughty, naughty boy," he bucked up into Harry harder with added stamina. "Let's see how long it took you to come all over my things."

Harry groaned in reply, incoherent _yeses_ and _ohs_ dragging out of him. His body bouncing higher and higher with Louis' spot-on power fucking. Soon Louis was going super fast like a manual balloon pump and Harry was plain crying in ecstasy. 

"I'm-come-ing," Harry said in time with the thrusts and the words barely left his mouth when he was coming all over the place. Louis slowed down, groaning at the warm liquid feel. 

"You bad boy, looks like I'm gonna have to teach you patience. Do you want my come inside you?"

"Yes," Harry said in a near shout.

Louis fastened his palms to Harry's buttcheeks and pulled them up. "Then work for it, babe. Make me come." He squeezed one of the cheeks scandalously and propped himself to take the ride. Harry rode and twerked and rotated, everything to add to their shared orgasms, and Louis came, kissing him and rubbing his sweaty face all over Harry's face and chest. 

Harry fell in a heap next to Louis who ran his hand down Harry's bicep and clasped their fingers together, never taking his admiring eyes off of Harry's watery ones. He lifted their hands up and applied pressure to his grip as he brought his left hand closer to his lips, planting an intense kiss on it as he breathed it in. 

“About this deal with Hailee," Harry said eventually as they came down, "I didn’t want anything in our way. I just hope this launch gala goes well and I get the chance to make it up to you and Crystal.”

“I forgive you, Harry. -Speaking of the launch, I wanted it to be a surprise but I’m flying your parents and that friend of yours in for the gala.”

“Shut up!” 

Louis blinked at the youthful outburst and said “Yep, you made all this possible. You deserve to have your family there that night. I’m setting them up in the grand hotel.”

“Omygod, that’s way too expensive. But on second thought if they stay here it’s gonna be a hullabaloo. My dad weighs about three hundred pounds and can’t fit in the bathroom down the hall.”

"And mine is the only room in the house with a large en-suite bathroom," Louis cackled. “So see why I know best?"

Harry caressed his stubbled chin. "Not all the time. You should have met up with me for that date. We would have worked the Finch problem out together. But instead you took it into your own hands and lost us three years."

"I know. It's on the long list of things I regret. Gosh when I first saw you I had these intense feelings I tried to tame but I just couldn’t help but kiss you. And then later I had to fight really hard to suppress those feelings at the office. I wanted to kiss you so bad."

"I know, I caught you looking at me so many times. It's always a struggle for me to pretend we're nothing more than employer and employee. You were so afraid of loosening up around me like you did in the suite.”

“I didn't mean to treat you that way. It's just that I left behind a closeted life with Danielle to live a dream with my soulmate and then he died and I just ended up picking up where I left off with the life I tried to escape. I felt I had to maintain at least that."

“I know. My heart breaks that you went right back to that closet with Eleanor. I wish to god I was born in an earlier time to save you from that. I know I'm young Louis but I loved you from the beginning. You know, that day when you dragged me into your office I lied."

“Simon didn't ask me out," Harry said when Louis asked him what he meant by that. "I said it to make you jealous. You were already so mad and I wanted to push your buttons further."

"Oh, I was that noticeable?"

"Yep. I made him clean up the mail room before and he was giving me some more letters he found to your old journal."

"Really? You got that man to do actual work in that room? I'm speechless. You really acquainted yourself around the office, haven't you." Louis said proudly. 

"I don't want to hide you away or leave anyone to presume you're unaccounted for. I want everyone to know you're mine." He tucked some hair behind Harry's ears. "Can I ask you something," he said more seriously. "Are you comfortable here with the family? Do you see yourself fitting in with them long-term?"

"I do."

"Great, because I don't want you out of my sight. I was thinking 'how about you and I restart the _Herculean Times_."

"You're joking. Really?"

"Yeah, I thought we'd start slow like a page in _IColorture_ and see how it's accepted, then branch out into a whole separate thing."

Harry bit back his excitement. "Where is this coming from?"

"From you! You're the one who said you wanted the journal back," Louis giggled breathlessly. "Kept nagging me about the stories you found. Besides, _OutRage_ disbanded a long time ago."

Harry tossed his head around in playful contemplation. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I can't believe you thought I'd say no," Harry gave a piquant laugh. “But wait, what about Dianna and _IColorture Fashion_?”

"Well there’s no pressure to start the _Herculean Times_ right away."

"And us?”

“We can see each other after working hours. I won't let it get in your way, I swear," Louis curled his fingers around Harry's bicep playfully. "I want to date you proper,” Louis then said, voice changing. “I don't want to hide our relationship from everyone."

"I know, you made it pretty clear on the other side of my door last night. Why did you say all that to my door though?"

"Because it was easier than saying it to your face. I figured if you heard me you'd open the door and let me in."

"You should know by now it never works. I always hear you." Harry started up a laugh. The smile did not last long and soon he was looking at Louis with a massive amount of guilt. "I was in there with Nick," he said, eyes going dim. "He heard everything."

"Oh, Harry…" Louis said, more pitying than angry.

"I know. Nothing happened. I'm gonna have to talk to him to make sure he doesn't tell anyone about you and me. When they find out it has to come from us."

Louis suddenly groaned low. A stark difference from his happier mien.

"What's wrong?"

"It's cramped," the older man frowned, fisting his hand. "These flare ups have the best timing."

Taking a moment to kiss his hand, Harry jumped into action. "I'll go get you the muscle rub. Stay put."

*

Harry marched down the hall in Louis' grey trousers, hoping he didn't walk funny. The thing fit everywhere except it stopped just a few inches above his ankles. The oversized red t-shirt draped on him like a ruffian, his hair in hapless curls around his shoulders. His butt hurt and he felt like he'd fall any minute after spending the entire night either on all fours or flat horizontal -on his back _and_ on his belly- in a dimly lit room then plonking down hard on the man’s penis in the early hours of morning. 

He crept to the kitchen knowing only Marietta would be up this hour. She was on the phone when he got there. 

"Marietta, can you make a tray for Louis? He wants to eat in bed today. Um, he wants pancakes with straw-"

“Strawberry and whip cream I know," she mused. She looked at him with understanding, and he burst into red all over. 

As she flipped pancakes, she explained Louis was telling her the same thing just now on the phone.

"Um, I think I'll help you with that," he drummed the counter, moving closer. "Uh, do we have any muscle rub or anything around?"

The woman made a noise like a deflating balloon. "Bit off more than you can chew, aye, laddy?" She rushed over and grabbed Harry, looking at him intensely. "Is he that fit?" she asked like she had just uncovered the holy grail.

"Marietta?" Harry went redder, if that was possible. 

"I mean I know he takes care of himself."

Harry was surprised she didn't think he was the one who wore Louis out. She must have noticed his bummed out duck-waddle.

"How did you..?" he got the plates out.

"I saw you two in the garden the other day while I was cleaning the study. But then I didn't have to. Haven't seen that type of chemistry since high school science lab."

He laughed with her and got the whipped cream out the fridge while she flipped the pancakes and went to get the muscle rub. 

Setting up a nice tray for two and giving him a cheeky wink, Marietta bade him a nice breakfast, and Harry was on his way. He was a little scared wondering if Louis wanted people to know yet but he knew Marietta wouldn't say a word. She was happy for Harry and that meant a lot.

"There you are!" -Harry was on his way back to Louis' room with the tray of food when he stopped abruptly at the stern voice of Freddie heading his way. 

"Why are you in my dad's clothes going opposite from your bedroom?" he eyed the muscle rub on the edge of the tray.

"My boyfriend's muscles are a bit overworked," Harry replied to the observation. It was no use keeping it from Freddie since he already knew from the night of the storm.

Freddie hacked a cough in disgust. Harry smiled proud. 

"I don't understand why you want to bed a man more than twice your age. Oh, that's right- because you are a gold digging whore!" Freddie let the words linger before he added in a mutter, "Taking advantage of a man good for passing around money!"

Harry took a tentative step back, unable to believe the boy's words. "Is that all he is to you? You know, I can take what you throw at me, but he raised you like his own child. He refers to you as nothing short of his son!" The tray squelched with rage in his grip. "And you're here talking about him like this? I would never take advantage of Louis. No one has ever been nicer to me. He's so much more than just an old man with money to me, Freddie. If you just take the time to know him as more than your _benefactor,_ you would see that."

Walking away, Harry shook his head and swallowed a lump of hurt that he felt for Louis knowing he had such an ungrateful 'son.'

*

Harry crept into the room on hand on the doorknob and the tray balanced on the other like a waiter. He set it down on the nightstand before turning to Louis. The man was standing in front of the footstool, his eyes fastened to the bed in horror.

"Lou? Are you okay, Love?"

"There's blood on the bed."

Harry took a few seconds to process. "That's normal. It's-"

"It's blood," Louis said frankly, expression changing like he tasted pollution in his own words. "I took advantage of you. I saw you and lusted after you and I couldn't keep my hands to myself."

"What are you talking about? This is a two-way relationship! I wanted you just as bad!"

Louis ignored him, continuing. "I swore I'd never touch you and I can't blame you for this. I should have controlled myself."

"What do you expect after we fucked all night? I’m surprised I can even _walk at all."_ Harry tried to make light of things but at the same time serious. The look on Louis’ face was making him nervous, giving the feeling like all the progress they made overnight was about to unravel from under them.

Indeed, Louis did not find the joke funny. "And you didn't ask me to stop?" His tone had all sorts of rhetorical and sarcastic intent and Harry felt cornered. 

"We've wanted it for a long time. You were happy and _of course_ I had no intention of asking you to stop.”

"So you let me hurt you without saying anything," Louis said angrily. "You had a choice to speak up. Me not knowing I hurt you and you not saying anything is the equivalent of rape. I raped you."

"How did you get _rape_ out of what I just said!?" Harry’s anger kicked in. "I'm telling you I enjoyed every second of being under you." He gestured his clumped fingers in the air per word, hoping to get through to the hysterical man.

"Did it hurt?"

Harry did not answer. He dry-laughed and looked away, shaking his head at the messy bed. It wasn't even that much blood, if the sheets were not white the little smear would be invisible. 

Louis almost caught a fit. “What the fuck, Harry? God, I should have stopped when we ran out of lube.”

“Why are you yelling at me!? I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither of us did!”

"I'm gonna ask you again; Did I hurt you?" The second part came out louder and more furious.

"No!" Harry shouted, taken back a few steps by Louis’ tone. "I wanted it." He gazed into the man’s eyes hoping for a percentage of the same look from last night. The look of pure love and sexual bliss of a man finally at peace. He marched up to Louis and pressed their lips together, their faces still set with crying. “It is perfectly normal to feel pain and pleasure at the same time.”

"This doesn’t look like pleasure to me. It looks like torture." Louis tore away from Harry’s arms and proceeded to rip the stained sheets off the bed. Bundling them up and throwing them in the corner of the room, Louis charged to the shower. "Don’t be here when I get out.”

As he disappeared, Harry looked at the pile of sheets. Their bubble. The way he bundled it all up and threw it away like he wished it never happened. He looked at the bed, bare and uncovered without the coziness of the sheets they smeared with love. Desperate to get back some of what they had the night before, he rushed to the closet. He remembered from the night he borrowed a blanket exactly where Louis kept his bedding, and pulled out a fresh set. 

After making the bed once again, having to change the pillow cases too, Harry peeled off his clothes and stood in front of the mirror. Staring at his reflection, he touched himself; his shoulders, arms, pelvis, nipples. Everywhere Louis had touched him the night before. He could feel the walls going back up, the hands slipping away from his grasp. He needed those hands touching him again.

He heard the toilet flush and the shower go on, and he ached to be there, rubbing skin with his man again.

Louis told him to leave, but his body wouldn’t let him. He tiptoed inside the bathroom and stood taking in the sight of the man’s muscles clashing with foam and water. Louis’ back was turned to him, and Harry could see through the frosty glass his softly muted figure turning and shimmying to allow the water to pass. He wanted to merge himself with that figure. Be the thing that makes it happy and loved.

He walked up to the glass and pressed his hand into it at the same time Louis turned to face his way so the water could soak his head. And he opened his eyes to see Harry there looking longingly at him. It was a few beats before he noticed the tears falling down Harry’s face, a stark contradiction to the blank expression he held.

Louis moved so fast in reaching over and sliding the door open and scooping him up in his arms. He carried him under the shower and set him on his feet, sliding his arms around his waist close to him. The water took up Harry’s hair plastering his cheeks and Louis smoothed it away with a kiss to his forehead.

"Please don't tell me to go," sobbed Harry, the steam from the overhead shower rising around them.

Louis let out a sympathetic noise and hoisted him up, legs around his waist. He leaned him into the rough Venetian plaster finish wall of the built-in spa shower, and merged their lips. Harry felt him gyrate in need. Yet Louis did not make a move to penetrate even though his hole was easily accessible.

"It's a sweet pain," Harry said just a little above a whisper to assure him. "A lot like scratching an itch hard enough to bruise yourself but you can't stop until it stops itching. I keep wanting more, like I'd starve if I don't feel you moving inside me." He took hold of Louis’ soaking wet penis. "We're not done, Love."

Harry slid it below the back of his leg and slipped it in. He then started twerking and clenching needily on it. Eyes rolling back in pleasure, Louis held his legs up on the wall and delivered slow-coming thrusts that rammed deep inside him, sending him to another plane. He went like that for a while, careful not to let Harry’s back graze the wall too hard.

*

**Louis pov**

Opening the muscle rub for the freshly showered Louis, who sat at the edge of the bed, Harry started massaging his knuckles without a word.

"What is it?" Louis kept his gaze on Harry's creased forehead.

Shaking his head, Harry climbed behind Louis, rubbing in the ointment on his shoulders and neck. Louis cocked his head back to look at him at an angle like a concerned kitten. Harry pecked his hairline right where the ball had hit him. 

"I'm just worried about you." Harry rubbed, relieving every tension. Louis felt bad for liking the way Harry rubbed his aches and pains. He felt old. What made him think he could go back to eighteen and benefit from Harry's love? What made him think he had a right?

"I'm sorry about the way I reacted. It's just I thought I was gentle enough and then when I saw the sheets I panicked."

"You were perfect." Harry said in his ear then kissed it.

Louis giggled at the feel and let it die down. "I wish our timeline fell closer. I'm not the man I used to be. The blissfully youthful…"

"I didn't fall for that Louis,” Harry said, briefly quitting his massage to curl their fingers together. "I fell for this Louis. The strong, independent leader of a dynasty who knows exactly how to touch me with these beautiful hands."

Louis did feel like eighteen. Inside. Harry made him all warm and fuzzy. 

Louis turned his head sideways, grabbing a hand from the resumed neck-rub and kissing it. Harry crawled back into the middle of the bed, forcing Louis to let go of his hand and turn around to face him. Harry had the naughtiest look in his eye, drawing Louis in.

“I’m so glad I met you. I’d be lying if I said I never thought about what it’d be like with you around. What it’d be like if we lived together.”

“Well, first of all we'd have to get rid of all the alcohol lying around. Let’s see, you need b-vitamins and cut down on cheese.”

“Oh no, how am I gonna live without your pizza?”

Harry giggled. “One slice on occasion.”

“Same as my alcohol.”

“Nice try. Out of the question.”

“Because I’m geriatric right. Cause you wanna make sure I don’t drop dead anytime soon.”

“Because I want to make sure your pain reduces," Harry countered quickly. "It hurts me to see you in pain.”

A soft knock on the door halted the conversation.

Louis answered it. It was Crystal. She wanted to have a private meeting with him. As she spoke, Louis heard the breakfast tray clang, and saw her eyes move to focus behind him. He turned around to see Harry flash across the room.

Clearing his throat, he turned to Crystal again and was met with a look of appraisal. Louis smiled embarrassedly and told her to give him a second. He closed the door. 

He explained the situation to Harry as he dug in his closet, choosing a bright red sweater to match with him. "Something must have happened with Dustin- I mean Gregory."

Harry chewed on a strawberry. "It's weird huh, I still can't wrap my head around that either. It's like the fortune teller was right- Wait," his eyes went wide in a joking way, "if Crystal's was right then yours must have been too. What if your twin soul shows up and you're with me?"

"Harry, don't be daft," Louis said, although the same thought seriously crossed his mind as well. 

Harry devoured the strawberry and proceeded with the pancakes not dwelling on the subject.

All dressed, Louis kissed him. "Okay, be back in a few minutes." 

*

**Harry POV**

A few minutes after Louis left, Harry picked up his landline to call his parents.

"Work has been great. Italy is amazing, can't wait for you guys to come out for the gala. Louis is sending you tickets and full hotel accommodations."

 _"Louis?"_ one parent said while the other babbled: _“I can't wait to see what you accomplished. We miss you, Sweetie. I hope that boss of yours isn’t baiting us to pour more work on you?”_

"No, Mum, he's kind and sweet and he treats me well."

There was silence on the other side of the line after he spoke and for some reason he could just see his parents’ precarious stares at each other.

 _"Sweetie,"_ his mother, Anne said after a while _. "Is there something more to you and your boss' relationship? I get the feeling you are more flattered by him than needs be of a mere work relationship."_

"Mum…I'm a grown man. I can see whomever I want."

" _So you are seeing him? He's your dad’s age!"_

"No, actually he's older. So what?"

 _"OH MY GOD! HE'S OLDER THAN YOU!!”_ \- she said, and Harry knew she was talking to his father, Robyn. _“HARRY WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN YOURSELF_ -" 

Robyn's voice then took over the phone. " _Son, we know how open you are to people. That's what makes us so proud of you, the way you look beyond things like age."_ \- _"Older!"_ Harry heard Anne mutter sternly to her husband as he spoke - " _But Son, don't let anyone take your big, kind heart for a sign of weakness. I do not expect any random old guy to be good enough for our son."_

" _Harry_ ," Anne had control of the phone now - speaker much? - " _I want you to tell me it's not like Ben_ _in the slightest."_

Ben, yeah, great they still can’t admit that Hunter was just as bad, that Hunter did more damage.

 _"Or that rascal Hunter,"_ \- thank you, Dad.

"No Mum. It's nothing like that. He's amazing, Mum. Look, I gotta go."

" _Just make sure this doesn't backfire on your job sweetheart."_

If they only knew Louis was the reason he grabbed hold of his dreams to have this job to begin with.

Louis stormed into the room in a huff and froze as he spotted Harry on the bed sprawled on the bed on the phone. Harry hung up and grinned up at him, happy that he was back.

Louis' eyes flashed at the tray and moved to his closet, grabbing out a business suit.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked, sensing some kind of unknown tension.

"I have to get to an important meeting that will take a few hours. Why don't you help yourself to breakfast on the patio?" He gestured his eyes to the tray of food to silently get across that he did not want Harry to occupy his bedroom in his absence.

"Okay,” he said, not knowing how to react to this strange coldness. He tried to smile in spite of his crawling fear, telling himself it had to be something important on the man’s mind he wished not to share yet.

So as Louis flung off the sweater and began to change clothes, Harry grabbed a plate and the scrolls of parchment and sauntered to the patio. No one was there; Dan was MIA, Dianna had to be out running last minute errands for the gala, and Freddie was off doing whatever Freddie does. Harry was on a cloud, vowing to laze around the whole day in Louis bed once he gets out from the talk with Crystal.

Hearing Nailee's voice harassing a busy Marietta as she vacuumed somewhere inside the house, he propped his feet up on a chair and smoothed the scrolls, smiling contentedly at the words squiggled on them in the best calligraphy he had ever come across.

_‘Each day I sit alone here and think of you. I rest my eyes from my work and browse over these books and smile with your face painted across my mind. Thinking of all the wonderful things we have in common. I have so many sonnets in my head about you I fear I may not have time to write them all down._

_So you came on my desk. That’s not embarrassing at all ~sarcastic smile~ but to be honest it’s better than jerking yourself off in your bedsheets with your face buried in something soft and pillowey someone left in your room by accident.... It smells like you. And, well, now it smells like me too. lol, I didn’t come on it, don’t worry, so it’s still yours. But, my love, with your cum on my parchment, you marked me yours too. And I shall want nothing short of marking you mine inside you. And not up against a hard desk -as arousing as that sounds- but in the soft mattress of my bed where your smell (and your belonging) even now awaits to sooth me to sleep._

_Ps- At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet. -Plato.'_

There was no more ink beyond the quote, and that fact caused a small hiccup of sadness quickly subsiding when he redirected his eyes to start reading all over again, though tears still reigned. Louis wrote this for him some time after Harry snuck into his study. Before Louis even showed up at his door last night. 

As his mind finished the letter again, it went back to last night; Louis’ warm breath on his earlobe, telling him things he wanted to hear every night before he slept, the way their bodies clashed and made magic with heat and sweat. It had started off awkward but once Louis had gotten over the initial shock of finally being with someone after so long, he became warm and touching. He learned his way around Harry’s body quickly, taking ultimate control. He was licking him up like the insides of a tartufu, opening his legs and smoothing them like the pages of his classic novels. Thinking back on it, he was taken by Louis in a way he had never been with anyone before. Louis was dominant and protective and made love to him with learnt hands. Harry followed his movements with the same spirit, and it didn’t matter who was older or who was younger or who felt old or who felt young. They made love as equals catering to each other’s needs.

Getting up to head back to Louis' room, he looked down and spotted Nick by the pool. He took a deep breath and made his way outside, deciding that confrontation better happen sooner than later. 

Harry marched out to him and saw Nick was having tea and a scone. The man looked up from his folded _IColorture_ magazine and gave a small, envious laugh. “You look like you had a good night.” 

Harry heard the undertone in the statement. The inherent knowledge that Nick knew about him and Louis. He didn't bother to try to deny it.

"I'm in love with him,” he defended his choice. “I'm sorry for leading you on. I should have been more…mature in my actions."

“Is that what he tells you?” Nick said through squinted eyes. “You should be more _mature_?”

Harry gave a sigh and Nick said; "Anyway, you hit the jackpot, that's for sure. **"**

"Why is it so hard to grasp that I can be interested in an older man for reasons other than money?"

Nick said under his breath, "Well, for one, he paid your parents' mortgage without breaking a sweat."

Harry looked away out into the pool, arms folded. And Nick, seeing how he upset him, said in a subdued tone: "It's actually really sweet of you to apologize." There was a tinge of understanding in his accent this time as he took his cup to his mouth. "No hard feelings." He extended his hand for an apathetic shake, and Harry was happy to oblige.

"If it ever falls flat you know where to find me," he added as Harry walked away. Harry stopped to give a little amused grin at the audacious remark then kept walking.

*

It was after three when Louis finally sent for Harry. Excited to have Louis’ attention again, Harry gave him the brightest smile on entering the study, certain he was going to get one back, but the tired-looking man merely glanced at him, letting out a sigh that Harry took to mean he was exhausted after the meeting. 

Harry leaped forward and hung his arms around the man’s neck hoping for a kiss. But Louis only stiffened, his arms at his sides and the space between his brows creased. 

Harry made to massage his shoulders. “You’re so tense. The Gala is only a few days away so I get it."

Caving under Harry’s feel for a few beats, Louis then grabbed his hands, setting them down, and walked past him.

Harry grew nervous on the spot. He knew this look of his. His eyes wavered to the couch and Louis followed the gaze; the painting had once again been taken down and covered up. Harry reckoned he’d have to weed out the man’s doubts once more.

"I told my parents about us. They think it's because I'm a spoiled only child, I keep falling for older men. You don't believe that, do you?"

Louis shrugged. "Maybe."

"But you it's more than that, right? You know I was made for you, right?"

"Yes. You were,” Louis said, a sad tone of surety in it. “By some horrid plan, you were. But your parents couldn't be more right in steering you away from me. They have taken care of you all your life. They know what's best for you."

"You loved a faceless Harry for years and then you loved me without knowing my name. Who can compare to that? After last night I don't want anyone else telling me what to do. I just know I belong with you."

Eyes lacking in their previous luminosity, Louis said, "What happened between us last night was...a mistake."

"A what?" Harry was cajoled into another plain.

"I've spoken to Di, and I think it's best if you stay and help the Italian branch where your abilities can be best put to use." Louis spoke quickly and flippantly like he was hurrying up the conversation to move on to something more important.

"Wait, wait, hold up. You lost me at mistake."

"Dianna was right. It's the best time to expand. It's a good opportunity for you," Louis said, noting Harry's grimace. "I think you should be happy and say yes."

"It's- Italy?” Harry's voice cracked. “I thought you said you needed my help starting back up the _Herculean Times_?"

"I think your skills are needed here. You have a good eye, Harry."

"But I'd be away from you," Harry's voice grew small. "You said you wanted me close to you." 

Louis sighed, eyes not quite ready to meet Harry’s. "I know but, I want you to have a beautiful life. Go wherever it takes you, fall in love with someone young and beautiful like you. Yes, I love you, but last night was a moment of weakness. I regret-"

 _"Weakness? Regret?"_ Harry let out in agony and covered his mouth. "What we shared last night... I don't want anything like that with anyone else ever again. Only you." His throat burned and his eyes went red and filmy. "Is this about what I said before? Are you afraid that now Crystal's prophecy came true, maybe your twin soul will finally show up and I'll be in the way?"

"That's not it. He can come and be the sweetest person and my heart will only belong to you. I feel free and so light with you. But I truly am sorry, Harry. The time where I get to be that free is long gone and my regret is that I let it go so far with you. You were not mine to take," Louis voice crumbled at the word _mine._

"You keep saying that, but I _am_ yours. I wanted _you.”_ Harry started to say, looking to mentally grasp onto anything that made sense but the hindrance in the man’s voice was different from the other times he turned Harry away. This time felt _final._

His gaze flashing to the covered painting once again, Harry let out a cynical laugh and stood up. “You know, all the years of doing what’s best for everyone...short-changing yourself; with _Outrage_ , with Eleanor.... You have a chance to think about yourself this one time and you can’t even do that.”

“I raised three children with her,” said Louis calmly and evenly. “You will not make me feel guilty for that.”

"You didn't have to marry her. She had two kids for another man. She's with him as we speak touring the world with your money. Are you just used to people walking all over you like that, that you don’t understand what it's like to be truly loved?" 

Harry stepped forward, the back of his hand coming to brush Louis' cheek. And with a pained expression, Louis stepped back as soon as it made contact.

“Don’t. I can’t be with you, Harry." He let the last four words fall into a painful whisper. “There are going to be times in your life when you face rejection, and you can’t have a fit every time it happens. You have to be strong, Harry. You have to accept it and learn to forgive.”

Harry grinded his teeth at what he interpreted as a clear jab at his past with men. “I did. I forgave Ben for lying to me and I forgave Hunter for driving me to near insanity. Because what they did were stepping stones that led me to you, the man I believed to be the perfect person to spend the rest of my life with. So yeah I forgave them. But this… I will never.... _never_ forgive you for this." Harry croaked like a frog that had eaten a venomous snake, his eyes void and red-rimmed, his voice completely reeked with heartbreak as he turned to walk away. 

Louis, seeing the pain he caused, leaped behind him, grabbing his arm.

"Don’t you touch me,” Harry lashed around, yanking back his arm and pointing a finger in Louis' face. "You want to dismember me some more? If you regret being with me and you want to pretend it never happened then so be it,” he said, voice unsteady, forehead red hot with anguish. 

Whimpering but saving the tearful explosion for when he was alone, Harry turned and pushed himself out the door.

*

The next couple of days were busy. Overseas calls and faxes transpired between the house in Rome and the staff in London as they tried to put together the new Italian fashion issue on time.

Harry worked from his laptop; creeping out in the garden, or shutting himself up in his room, avoiding Louis as much as possible- or anyone else for that matter, the only person he could bear to talk to was Nailee. Yet only after a few minutes of work he kept finding himself falling into sobs and diving face down in his pillow.

Of course, Louis still sought ways to communicate, occasionally knocking on his door with menial tasks and texting him unnecessary reminders about the launch gala. He even texted Harry just to tell him he put his parents and Zayn up in the best hotel and sponsored lavish attires for them to wear at the event even though Harry already knew these things since he was the one who had to communicate with Nick on the expenses.

Harry knew it was Louis' ridiculous way of apologizing. But not for hurting him, more for making him feel like they had a chance in the first place. And that kind of apology can kiss his ass for all he cared, because he was still pining for the scraping of the man's hair stubs on his collarbone when he was kissed on the neck, and the thick body hair that brushed on his thighs when the man pressed his firm legs on him _._ He didn't just make love to his body, he made love to his entire being. How can he not get that Harry belonged with him after something like that?

Today Harry woke up with a cold sweat from another dream. This one was just as unique as the others; he was in Rome, a street he had not been to before, but he saw the peak of the Vatican in the horizon and that's how he knew where he was. Though it was vague, his heart quickened with the vestige of excitement and anticipation from the dream.

Wheeling out of bed, he rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. Harry noticed the flower in the pot had shot out a few more inches and created a bud. He hadn't noticed it before and he forgot to water it the past two days with everything happening. He gazed at the slightly qualed plant, drooping almost dead with dehydration. He reflected on how something so young can become so old and starved in so little time. He wondered if he watered it now if it would still have a chance to revive and grow. 

A half an hour later after sneaking to the kitchen for breakfast and rushing back before the others woke up he brought back a bottle of water and poured it on the poor thing. 

He sat watching it contritely, hoping it shot back up straight in one go, but sensibility won out and he decided he was not going to hide in his room anymore or dodge Louis narrowly at breakfast, or have to hope Louis wasn’t walking the halls anytime he came out to go to the bathroom or meet Dianna for notes. He had no intention of talking to Louis about what changed his mind so suddenly. He was not going to get an answer. And he wasn't going to throw himself at the man, whining about how unloved he felt and take another minute of the man acting like he had defiled Harry anymore. He was past that. Exhausted from it all. Harry never thought he would say it big he was tired of Rome.

Bouncing off the bed and dropping to his knees, he dragged out his luggage from under it. He grabbed the stupid dress-code leaflet that had fallen on the ground after shutting the door on Louis the day before when the older man had used it as an excuse to come see him, and tossed it in.

*

**Louis' pov**

Neck aching from constant writing and barking orders through his phone to employees on another side of the globe, Louis took a break. He walked past Harry's room casually as he had found himself doing since the breakup two days ago. This time luckily, the door was open. Marietta had just exited with her dustbuster in hand, and when she saw him a grave look fell upon her face. Louis drooped his shoulders and opted to walk by without bothering the man but backtracked as he saw in the corner of his eye, the man packing.

"What are you doing?" he dashed in. _Harry can’t possibly be leaving?_ The young man wore a somewhat empowered expression that Louis would have otherwise mistaken for arrogance but considering the way Louis disappointed him there was no room to be.

In a beige field jacket over an indigo blue Henley that looked striking against his honey glow skin, Harry lifted his head and his loose curls swung superbly to dangle around his ear. Louis had to pull his eyes away to the luggage to focus on the situation. "I'm going to the hotel to see my parents. I'll be back in time for the launch gala."

Louis’ heart caved. "They can come see you here- I'll get a car to bring them over."

"It’s fine. I can't spend another night in this house," Harry cut him off, zipping up the last compartment.

“It was never my intention to hurt you," Louis said quickly as Harry rose face to face with him. "I don’t want you to hate me for this decision. I didn’t conjure it from nowhere, you have to understand.”

Harry rolled his eyes, which were already a watery glaze. “You didn’t give me an explanation, so yes it did come from nowhere. And what made you think you can just make a decision like that on your own?”

“Because I want what’s best for you.”

“Fucking altruistic, aren’t we?” Harry said with tang, his chin raised slightly. The way it always was when he was angry.

Louis sighed at the bitter remark, knowing he deserved it.

“What if I said I didn’t want to stay in Rome?" Harry said into the air between them, "What if I want to go back to England with you and work with you in the day, and make love to you in the night, and we can forget what you said the other day ever happened?”

Caught off guard by Harry's hopeful change in tone, Louis' eyes brimmed with tears, knowing he could not fulfill it, and he lowered his head grimly. 

Harry, furious with this silent but meaningful response, immediately made himself strong and nodded at him ruefully.

“I’ll see you at the launch, Mr Tomlinson.” Harry almost whispered it as he pushed past him, eyes sallow, with his luggage in both hands, walking out the door, and what seemed like Louis' life altogether.

*

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End- I hope u wont be mad cuz of the end of the chapter, you know me, I like to giveth and then taketh away in all my fics, this story has a happy ending. I'm posting the next chapter right away. It is a short one and then the last chapter will be a long one, plus I have an epilogue to add. Please stay tuned for it I am so excited to share! Please I beg of you don't stop with the comments and kudos. Please 134 kudos can't be it please guys.


	17. chapter sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but I like this one a lot. Please enjoy.

_**'I let her go. I had to, because I love her...' Beast- Beauty and the Beast**_

The phone set on the nightstand and a sleeping robe around his frame, Harry had taken a shower and settled in bed in Zayn’s en suite. He had been there for hours listening to Zayn going off about the Turkish bath in the hotel and the nespresso machine that came with the room, yet no matter how Zayn tried to distract him, the tears hadn’t stopped falling since he arrived with his suitcase with the words 'he dumped me.' His parents' suite was just down the hall but he didn’t want to see them just yet, not when his mood was a drastic contrast from the last time they spoke on the phone.

Zayn started some coffee and ordered biscuits and put on the flat screen hoping to cheer up the man from his woes but Harry lay fetal on the bed. Then room service came with the order and Zayn finally got Harry to sit up. He poured some coffee and rubbed his back to encourage him to drink. Harry took one sip fed to him and gave a faint smile but refused the biscuits.

“I can still feel him,” Harry said, and a fresh wave of tears emerged and rushed down his cheeks to the corners of his mouth where he licked them in. “Everywhere. Not just on the surface but...in my bones. He made love to me so deep I can still feel him behind my ribcage, on my spine, the soles of my feet…"

Harry gripped on tight to the long sleeve of Zayn’s white-and-red jersey and let it all out on his chest. The pain, the nerves, the want… everything that had felt so good now mincing at him like diabetes after a shit ton of sweets.

“I’m telling you, I was in this... _subspace.”_

Zayn loured at the mention the man might have hurt Harry in any way.

“It was so intense and I felt so high with him, like we were one person. The way he touched me like he had been waiting to touch only me for years. His hands were catered to me, Zayn. To care for me. To bring me down. I can’t explain it. it’s not like we were doing anything extreme like bdsm, but it felt so nirvana."

Harry went on about the rest of that night and the morning after and how they cemented their love and had even deeper more emotional sex and how crushed Louis was about the thought of being so caught up in it that he might have hurt Harry.

"After all that how can he just take it all and tell me it’s over?” Harry finished the sentence in a pained cry, feeling like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. He wanted nothing more than to go begging and grovelling at the man’s feet to take him back but he had to protect his heart. He had been hurt too many times before, and although Louis was the exception, out of self-preservation Harry needed to shut the door on the urge.

It was hours before he finally fell asleep in his tears against Zayn’s shoulders.

Pushing back a yawn, Zayn slid out from under him and slugged to the mini fridge. He reached for the handle and pulled out a can beer. He barely took one sip before he heard electro music vibrating on the little bedside table.

Curious as to who would be calling so late, he rushed over to stop it from waking Harry. The call went silent as the person hung up before Zayn could answer so he took the opportunity to shove his thumb on the screen. A smile escaped as the little plastic panda ears on the phone case lit up again with another call. That smile wiped clean as he saw the name and picture of the caller.

 _Lou_ Harry stored it as. A headshot of a very glazed eyed Louis looking half his damn actual age laying bunny-toothed in a sea of plush white bedding, he looked happy. It irked Zayn how happily satisfied he gazed at what had to be Harry behind the camera taking the selfie. From everything Harry told him he knew it had to have been taken sometime during their rendezvous. The dude did look fucked out of his mind laying there. The fact that Harry felt comfortable enough to make such an intimate picture of the man his caller ID was all the reason to hate the man for letting Harry down. He had cast-iron balls to be calling here at all.

He swiped the green icon on the last ring. “The’fuck do you want?” He said it rather than asked it.

“How is he?” The man said after some startled pause, his voice small and flayed like a baby goat. The nerve of this guy.

“Who the hell do you think you are, calling him after what you did?” Zayn wasted no time on cordiality. “You have no right. What did you think, he was just a mind fuck for you? Thought you could just buy him off, set his parents and me up in the best hotel and he'd go flying into your bed? You have no idea what you did to him, do you? He loved you for three years. A fucking stranger he insisted didn’t feel that way to him. I told him not to mess with you white collar bigshot types, that you were probably just lying to him like the other scumbags he dated. But no he insisted on meeting you alone in the middle of nowhere. I was half happy you didn’t show up except he was crushed. 

"It took him three years to pick himself up after you stood him up and then you had to fucking show up at his first real shot of a career and be his boss, of all people. But no, you didn’t stop there. You had to bring him all the way to Italy just to fuck with him. The one place he always wanted to go, and you ruined that for him by fucking him and then turning your back on him. I thought you were different. If you know you weren’t going to follow through, then you shouldn’t have gotten intimate with him in the first place.”

“It’s none of your business what we did, but I hear you. I get it. I messed up. But-”

Zayn was not about to hear any more of his crap. “I’m his best friend. He tells me everything, good and bad. He told me all about your _pillow talk_. You have no clue how hard that was for him to let you in like that. His first two relationships nearly fucked him up. The first guy used to call him a slut all the time and the second one lied to him about being single just to get in his pants because he knew Harry would never fuck a married guy. I had my reservations about you, a guy twice his age, but I thought you were better for him. The way he’d talk about you like you were a saint. I get you don’t know fuck about relationships but you don’t just do that to people.”

“I was doing what’s best for him.” He had the audacity to say it with a bit of spice.

“He’s a grown ass man, he knows what’s best for him," Zayn hissed, gaining huffs from the man. "At least I thought he did until you used him and threw him out of your bed like garbage. But you know what, Mr Tomlinson, he won because he has the biggest heart and can find love again with someone who deserves it and you're just a cold old man with no chance of ever getting a coin to look at you and you’ll be sorry knowing what you let go. Trust me, He’s the best thing that will ever have happened to your sorry ass. And believe me I heard all about your fucked up life.”

The timely huffs on the other end had halted as Zayn's words grew colder, and he knew something he said hit home as it was a long moment before the man spoke. 

“Do you think it’s easy for me to see him, work with him everyday and pretend I don’t love him with every fibre of my being?" Louis' voice was low and calm, sad even. "I know you think I’m cruel but I did it out of love. You’re right, he needs to be with someone better.”

Zayn faltered at the declaration but quickly regained himself and dry-laughed, driving the sound straight into the phone. “Cut the crap. I know you are just calling to make sure he’s not too hurt to come to your stupid launch gala. Don’t worry he’ll be there. Consider it my personal mission to make sure you don’t ruin his career.”

Zayn clicked the phone shut in a huff, darkening the screen as he put it back on the nightstand as quiet as possible.

*

Pacing the garden, Louis hung up his cell phone with so much pressure on the red icon he thought his thumb might go through. Driving his palm across his forehead, he looked up to see Dianna crossing the terrace. She glanced at him for half a second, her eyes plummeting on contact. Louis could barely look at her right now. He lowered his head under the pretext of being engrossed in his cell phone until she disappeared.

He let himself think about the conversation with Zayn. The guy thought he brought him and Harry’s parents out there to get in his pants. He wondered if Harry was listening and would later correct Zayn that it was after they broke up that he flew them all out there. He sighed knowing it was too much to hope for as a pass to get him out of trouble with his feisty best friend. Louis was secretly glad Harry had someone like that on his side. Someone who would fight for his happiness like that. Harry deserved to be happy. Maybe… he swallowed back the bitter of absurd dread in his chest caused by his mind suggesting Harry end up with Zayn. Though it soured him so for Harry to be with someone else, he knew they would be a good fit.

 _You shouldn’t have gotten intimate with him..._ does Zayn know how hard that was for Louis to let Harry in too? He said Harry told him everything, so didn’t Harry tell him that Louis was just as closed up as Harry was and just as vulnerable? And that bit about Louis not being any better than Harry's exes? Louis despised being mentioned in the same breath with those scumbags much less be compared with them. Did he really hurt Harry that much? 

A thoughtful eye on the exterior walls of the house, Louis shot for the entrance. As if it would change anything, as if he could argue with the ghost of the man's past shadow to summon him back, he marched to Harry's room. The first thing he laid eyes on was the flower pot, the half-dead shoot inside it. There was a 250ml bottled water on the nightstand and Louis uncorked it. He walked over to the window, held down the rough unglazed terra cotta, and poured all the water in, letting it spill over and leak down the walls.

He then climbed on the bed and laid down, running his hand along the blanket he had given Harry. It was fleecy soft, and smelled faintly like the pillowey did before he washed it, all Harry. He turned on his side and pressed his nose into it, took in a whiff of it and closed his eyes, feeling the high.

Harry said he was coming back but the Radisson Blu hotel was only a five-minute walk from the metro if Harry felt like bolting and from what Zayn told him that was creeping up on Louis as a possibility. 

His eyes moved to the corner of the room and saw a duffel bag laid on top of a couple trolley bags- one of which he thought he recognized from three years earlier- and was relieved he left the majority of his things behind in good faith. They were set in front of the valet stand which wore the red sweater Harry borrowed. And as Louis spotted it a vicious, recollecting pain, flanked with panging words from the morning afterglow conversations he and Harry had overtook his chest sharp to punish him, but they were fleeting enough not to warrant alarm.

*****

“I heard you talking to him last night," Harry said the next morning, checking his phone. He had been so drowsed he fell asleep for most of it but seeing the call log jugged his memory. "What did he say?”

“He wanted to know how you were doing," Zayn mumbled, ashamed of what Harry might have heard him say. "Listen, Harry, obviously he still loves you.” 

“No. You should have been there to see his face. He was dead serious about breaking up. He told me that I should stay in Italy while he goes back to England. He actually suggested we be that far from each other. He doesn’t give a damn about me.” Harry’s voice cracked and he was crying once more.

Zayn climbed on the bed not knowing what else to do or say.

“Thank you for sticking up for me on the phone. But you were right about him getting in my head.”

“Harry...” Zayn was now genuinely feeling bad about what Harry heard him say. 

“No you were right. After we made love we were so tired and we just lay under the sheets and he pulled the covers over our heads and said it was our bubble. It was like his way of saying it was just us and nobody could stop us from being together in that bubble. And while we were laying there in each other’s sweat and body fluids, he caressed my jaw and ran his thumb across my chin, and looked me in the eyes and told me I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t say it with those exact words but it’s what I felt. I felt it with every fibre in my body that was the way he saw me.”

Zayn was no sucker for romantic gestures but even that made his breath catch. He was almost tempted to tell him the man had used the same words on the phone about how he felt for Harry. But what good would that do him now?

“My heart was opened so big, and I felt so loved. I couldn’t say anything. I climbed back on top of him and slow-fucked him, in our bubble. It was so intense and we got lost in each other all over again. So yeah, I guess he did mind-fuck me.”

“Fuck, Harry. no wonder you're so wrecked.” He scooped the man up in his arms where he fell into a fresh wave of sobs. “Please promise me you’ll get up and try to be okay before the magazine thing. I know he hurt you but I also know how much your job means to you. The opportunity to be the spokesperson for a major company like that only comes once in a lifetime. You didn’t get that because of him. You earned it. Don’t let this set you back in the career you have dreamed of so long.” 

*

Louis sat back in his armchair to rest his back, the thoughts of all that had transpired in Rome over the past few weeks on his mind. The sound of his cellphone on the desk brought him out of it.

"Jaleel, what a pleasant surprise. Did you get the tickets I sent for you and your great nephew?...yeah yeah...oh?... It sounds urgent. Are you sure you don't want me to come over and discuss whatever it is? ... Okay, if you insist."

_Knock_

Louis looked up from the phone. Nick stuck his head in and cleared his throat. "Sorry boss, your mother is on line two. Refuses to hold -as usual."

Louis nodded and as Nick left he spoke to the phone again. "You can tell me at the Gala then, Jaleel, we'll talk. Okay see you there."

_Beep_

“Hey Mum,” he said, glad to get a chance to hear her.

_“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”_

“Mum, why do you always assume something’s wrong?”

_“I know you. Here I am calling to tell you and Dianna how sorry I am I can’t be there tomorrow, and you don’t sound ready for a gala at all.”_

“Well, you couldn’t be more right. As usual.”

She hummed, egging him on to tell her what was on his mind.

“It’s nothing, it’s - it’s the new spokesperson- he’s,” Louis searched for a way not to say the truth but also not to lie to his mother. Just how to not tell her he slept with the man and then dumped him, he did not know.

 _“He’s Harry…”_ the woman said frankly through the speaker. _“I know. Crystal called me the other day. Told me all about Harry, and Hailee, and Gregory- I ought to have a word with that one. But like I said I wish I was up to travelling but my doctor doesn’t recommend it.”_

“I know Mum. I miss you, I wish we could have done all this over there,” Louis breathed, hoping she would forget about mentioning Harry.

But after blabbing about how Dianna was stubborn to make them go all the way to Rome just to offshoot a magazine, she said _“So, back to Harry.”_

Louis sighed. “He’s,” was all Louis could say before a massive ball rose in his throat. 

_“-young?”_

Louis let out a sob, nodding even though she couldn’t see. His mother knew exactly what was on his mind.

“He’s so young, Mum,” 

_“Your father was older than me.”_

“But what’s fifteen years compared to our twenty-eight?”

_“You’re right. That is steep in comparison, but since I do have experience as the younger one in such a dynamic, I must say I looked up to your father and admired him so much. He taught me so many things. There was not a day that went by that I regretted marrying him. And from what Crystal has told me, you and this Harry are quite a match.”_

“I want to,” he sobbed, “I want to keep him but when I think about the life I want for him, I can’t stand in the way. I care so much, Mum.”

_“You remember Mercury? That labrador that followed you home when you were little?”_

“Yeah, the one grandmother forbade me to play with cause she said I’d get ringworms.”

His mother laughed. _“That’s the one. You fed him and bathed him and took him outside in the yard everyday until we found the owners. When they came to pick him up your grandmother was delighted, but you screamed and bawled, and your father had to buy you a basketful of toys to cheer you up after Mercury left. From a little boy I think that experience conditioned or rather traumatized you into the mindset of not grasping the things you love are truly yours, because you think you have to one day give them back. You did it with Niall, you did it with Eleanor and the children… You were always looking over your shoulder, feeling guilty you’d stolen Crystal, scared Hailee would come back for her…"_

Louis took a deep breath thinking, she was right. He never truly owned anything. But it was only because everyone in Louis' life who he loved tended to belong to someone else...

 _“But look back for a second, Louis,”_ her voice grew deep and low. _“They all chose you. You know Freddie can’t call that man his father, he looks to you for guidance. Now unlike Mercury, this Harry is not committed to any other. If he expresses interest in sharing your companionship then I don’t see why turning him away is the best thing.”_

A while later after they ended the call, Louis replayed her words in his head. Of course she was right but then she hadn’t met Harry yet. She didn’t know how full of life he was and how he was perfect, too good for Louis. If she had met him she would be singing a different song about how improper it was, their chemistry. But even as he thought it Louis didn’t believe a word. Even though he could no longer express it, he was won over by his feelings and now stood firm that his relationship with Harry was far from improper.

*

It was in the afternoon that Zayn had finally convinced Harry to take a turkish bath. He let himself sink down, soaking away the past few days. He hoped the heat would wake him out of his miserable trance, but the more the water crept up his back the more he felt the sore spots where Louis had kissed him hard during sex. The more he heard the man moan in his ear and suck down on his neck. The more he felt himself stretch open time after time as the insatiable man ventured inside him. The more he wanted to go back to Louis' bedroom, and his shower, and bed. The bubble. He missed their bubble. He hated how fast the bubble burst. 

He thought of his new friend, Oya, and how she once told him it wasn't all sunshine with Hailee and Taylor and how a year ago she began to feel like a third wheel and she left. It broke her heart but she had to do what she thought was best for everyone. How Hailee and Taylor tracked her down and proposed after she broke down in front of them. Said they could make their marriage work without her now but didn't want to because they loved her. Harry liked Oya but there was no way he'd grovel in front of any man, and marriage was definitely not in the picture for him.

He stayed in the water for an hour before dragging himself out pruned to the sound of Zayn’s worried voice outside.

“I’m fine now. At least I’m going to be,” Harry finally said a while later down at the buffet. He had called his parents after he dried off and that made him feel better. They said they were on their way to the gym after which they "will be hitting the rooftop pool," and told Harry to bring Zayn and join them. Harry had declined; the thought of seeing another pool literally hurt his chest. He told them he would meet up the next day outside to go to the magazine launch gala. His dad had sensed something off in his tone and asked him about it but Harry brushed it off and told them to enjoy the pool. He was determined to get himself together for the Gala.

“I’m worried that the second you see him again you’re going to fall apart, Harry.” Zayn packed his plate and they sat down at a table in the hotel restaurant. 

Harry released a long breath. He only took a slice of quiche and a soda. Now that he sat down, hearing silverware clanking and wine glasses knocking, he was not hungry anymore. He didn't even notice Zayn was talking about the expensive suit that showed up outside his suite before Harry came, until he mentioned the “Gala thingy.”

He jabbed the fork in severing the quiche as he made up his mind not to pine away. 

“I guess there is one thing we can thank him for,” Zayn said, visibly relieved to see Harry chewing, “-the fact that me and your parents will be going to this thing with you. You’re gonna need that support.” 

*

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I like this one bcz Zayn! and Jay. Oh gosh I feel so bad for Harry but dont worry in the next chapter we will see exactly why Louis ended it so abrubtly. Ok the next chapter is going to be the conclusion. If anyone has any particular situations they would like to see cleared up please let me know in the comments. Please rec this fic if u are over on twitter or tumblir etc and tag me. Please don't stop with the comments and kudos.


	18. chapter seventeen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gala. This is the final chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I suffered you guys long enough. Sorry for the late update this needed editing and proofreading and I had to decide where to put certain scenes. I really hope this is okay, if anything is out of place or something was left without resolution please let me know. It's pretty long so I hope it makes up for it. 
> 
> Idk if galas have dancing, from what I hear they are super formal so forgive me for any wrong depictions. To the religious readers I hope I don't offend anyone with the fictional portrayals of characters I will not name (no spoilers) in this chapter.   
> Please read on and enjoy.
> 
> tags- inaccurate handling of police forensics, accident and blood triggers.

****

**_~If you are not too long I will wait here for you all my life~ Oscar Wilde_ **

“All this was your idea?” Anne mused, hands to her face as she viewed the marvelous decor. The living room furniture had been removed and the foyer doors opened up to create a large rectangular hall where tables and a podium were set up for guests, including a few journalist associates. Bistro chairs were also brought in and there were hundreds of candle light bulbs hanging from the ceiling to light up the purple, green, and white theme that was emphasized by massive bouquets in the colors.

All the way from the hotel Harry had to listen to his parents go off about the Finnish sauna. They had not drilled him about Louis once the whole ride, which made Harry relieved until the limo pulled up to the house and his father said gratingly, "Okay let's meet this Louis and thank him for the mortgage, but don't expect me to call him _son."_

Zayn had thrown Harry a look and Harry grew even more anxious than he already was to be back at the house.

"Oh Sweetheart, look, let's check out the buffet,” his mother said, fanning herself with her formal invitation.

“It looks even better than the one at the hotel!" said his father, steering his wife by the waist over to the long table full of finger food.

“I’m going to see if I can get us some drinks,” said Zayn, wandering off in his sleek dinner jacket, looking almost like one of the business tycoons present tonight. Harry could see the sheen in his hair, all back as he was swallowed up in the crowd.

From the Romani Woman collection Harry had chosen another sheer pirate style top in crushed raspberry accentuated by pearl buttons down the back, and a simple pair of orchid-white trousers. The room was swimming with people dressed in shimmer and masked in glamour. Waves of Italian sounds and decor being chatted about complimenting and appraising the new magazine issue being distributed. He spotted Freddie and Dan in their black tuxes and hoped he didn’t run into either of them tonight.

He looked over to where Crystal was in a sweeping canary gown with navy blue shoes and accessories, talking to two older men and hugging them. One with blond hair and the other red, their faces were not noticeable in the crowd but from their body language Harry could see they knew Crystal on an informal level. One of them started to make their way over to Harry, his eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Harry looked back and quickly deduced that the man was aiming for a waiter. 

As the man grew closer and his face became clearer Harry gasped. It's not possible. The man’s eyes caught Harry, his entire face draining of blood. The man stopped as if time had frozen. Then as if jolted back to earth, he blinked rapidly, passing Harry with a bewildered glance. Looking back, also bewildered, Harry caught eyes with the man who was also looking back for him. The man turned front to his own business when he saw Harry catch him. 

Harry looked away and moved through the crowd, casting his eyes to the small stage up front where a jazz band was playing soft but lively notes in tune with the mood of the place. And there he was, in his fitted dark grey suit and electric blue tie with his hair back in the neatest do. Mr Louis Tomlinson. Harry didn't think about how it would feel to see him again. He didn't have time amid Zayn’s card games and his mother's pancake feedings. He did feel a bit pudgy around the love handles. But he stood now with his eyes on the man and his heart in a puddle at his feet. Everything came crashing out. All that had happened between them and how they left things… Harry now only wanted to run to the man and throw his arms around him, never letting go. The truth is he was afraid of the water but he had been drowning every day of his life that didn't consist of Louis.

The man was having what looked like an intense conversation with Hailee after shaking the hand of a burly man who accompanied the woman. She was giving vigorous hand gestures and Louis was holding up stopping hands to appease whatever matter she was so heated about. The woman, who was dressed all in black and white for the occasion, muttered something like _“Why is he still here?”_ and he quickly nodded to calm her and dismissed the talk. A still upset but calmer Hailee let the conversation dissolve and was pulled away by the man, and Louis was now soon facing Harry’s direction. 

From where he stood it all made sense. Hailee was the reason Louis broke up with him. After seeing them together in Louis' room Crystal must have told Louis to break it off with Harry because she didn’t want someone she couldn’t trust as part of her family. Sure her mother was just as guilty but she was blood. Harry was a stranger. Hailee must have asked Louis to fire him and be done with it for good for Crystal’s sake, and Harry knew Louis would do anything for Crystal. But he also knew Dianna needed Harry and that must be why he chose not to fire him on top of everything. He had two daughters to keep happy.

Harry watched as Louis then embraced the other man Crystal was talking to earlier. They chatted for a bit before the blond was off in the direction of the redhead who had passed Harry earlier. A head-turn and a weakened smile brought their eyes to focus on each other. Louis froze, his fingers on his tie, his lips disappearing inside his mouth, his eyes on the gossamer material covering Harry's upper body. And Harry wanted to disappear. The eye contact somehow flooded over him and made him feel open and vulnerable again as though Louis’ lips were brushing over his entire body again, taking him back to when he fucked him so good he forgot his own name.

He looked elsewhere to take his mind off the man and tucked his hair back only to find himself standing face to face with him. Nick was up on the podium rambling on about the night’s events, and Harry tried to look in that direction though he could only hear his own heart beating rampantly in his ear above the loud microphone. Louis was breathing a bit fast like he had rushed over but his movements were tentative.

“Hi,” he said so low Harry was sure no one else heard it. Everyone was in their own little group chatting and waiting for the first speaker. 

Louis made a move to touch him on the triceps, and Harry swallowed hard, backing away so as not to catch attention. 

His eyes fell on Dianna some distance away. She was out of earshot but looked as though immersed in what was happening with him and Louis. In a satin mini cocktail dress with a giant bow at the back, something about her looked different. He was expecting her to be her usual aloof self, dragging her stepdad around to meet people but not tonight she seemed inside herself and worried.

“Harry, please, can we go somewhere and talk?” Louis said in that same dashing Yorkshire accent that made Harry pop with pleasure when whispered to with it in bed. And one more minute before he falls apart.

 _“I present to you, chairman and co-CEO of IColorture Magazine, Mr Tomlinson,"_ Nick said from the podium, arms jotted out toward where he spotted Louis.

Apparently that first speaker was Louis...

Grateful for the interruption that would surely take Louis’ overwhelming presence away from him before he fell apart again in front of the man, Harry gestured for him to go. His eyes were sad, looking back at Harry as if to ask if he was sure he didn’t want to find a quiet spot in the garden and talk. But Harry knew that wouldn’t lead to making up. It might lead to charged kissing and petting but not actually making up or taking back everything he said and telling his family that he loved Harry and wanted a life with him.

As Zayn arrived with two glasses of something light-colored and sparkling, Harry shook his head and prompted Louis to go, with a stupid smile for the crowd that was now looking their way clapping. 

A reserved eye flickering on Zayn, who quietly glared back, Louis finally took the hint and walked away. But as the man did, Harry’s inside churned. He was suddenly a mess as flashes of Louis’ mouth on his inner thighs, his fingers down his sweaty spine, and his body grinding into him refused to stop rumbling in his head.

*

As Louis stepped in front of the microphone, Hailee found her way to Crystal and Nailee, and poked her daughter to get her attention.

Crystal smiled politely and gestured to her to stand with them to hear the speech. 

As Louis cleared his throat Hailee turned to Crystal. “I know we talked about this before. But I need to say this again. I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me."

“Mama," Crystal began.

"No, listen to me. I was the worst mother and I knew I was going to get worse after losing your father. I don't regret sending you to live with Louis. But I do regret the time it took to get back to you, _Angelita_."

"I know, Mama. I know how hard it can be to get clean," she gave a nod in Nailee's direction and whispered, "Saw first hand with her Papa."

"Hm. I guess everything happens for a reason," Hailee looked pointedly to Gregory, who was not far in a fushia-colored suit with red tie tucked in. "Talk to Gregory. He shouldn't have lied to you but he only learned that from me. He has proven to you he cares about you and your family. If the gypsy told you he is your soulmate then you owe it a try. Your father was sceptical but the gypsies were always right."

Crystal's expression was closed up about the Gregory topic but it slowly opened as Hailee mentioned her father. She looked over to where Gregory stood in the crowd staring at her. She sent him a small wave and he grinned a little too wide, a little too relieved, causing her to roll her eyes and shake her head at him scoldingly.

Crystal hugged her mother, Nailee coming up to them and putting her arms around their waists.

* 

Louis was an orderly man, always made written speeches for important occasions like this, but having Harry leave the house, and knowing how much he hurt him, he didn’t get time to make one. He sighed, not even trying to pretend he was not totally unprepared. Mulling over what to truly say, he cleared his throat.

"I'd like to dedicate this new _IColorture Fashion_ magazine launch to the memory of the dearest person a guy could have had the honor of calling his best friend, the late Niall Horan."

He did not anticipate the tears that came with saying his name out loud to all these people. He tried to imagine Niall in the crowd and got the strength to carry on. He spotted Jaleel, who nodded encouragingly next to his great nephew, and Louis picked up a little strength.

"He was a father,"- Louis’ eyes caught Crystal's. He looked to her left at Hailee and was stumped not knowing what Niall was to her; _boyfriend_ sounded kinda dumb to say in a formal gathering and twin soul was a term not as widely known as a soulmate was so he just stared at her intently the unspoken word in his welled up eyes, and she smiled and nodded back like she understood all too well, tears and sniffling overtaking her to the point where Nailee was looking up at her with concern- Boy, did that little thing look like her grandmother- and Crystal had her arm around her like they were back at Niall's funeral. "And a dear friend. He was the number one person who believed in my dreams.”-He looked at Harry who was looking back at him searching for answers neither of them even knew the questions for. “That they would all one day come true.”

Harry nodded, a brief smile escaping his face as Louis continued the speech, his parents and Zayn next to him.

"We should all remember the ones who passed on," Louis continued, "who touched our lives in one way or another," he looked from Liam to Duncan, who was one of the people Louis couldn’t do this launch without the support of. Standing in the crowd, the man not only reminded him of Niall but strangely of someone he had not thought about in a while; Niall had been Louis' business partner, and Liam had helped make it all possible, but if Louis was to truly delve into the culmination of his dreams he had one _Clint Eastwood_ to thank as well.

_Someday, some good wind_

_May blow her back to me_

_Some night I may hear_

_Her like she used to be..._

"May not be ended by death, but simply anyone who passed through, but for a while, seeming small and unimportant, but looking back they helped shape us into who we are today."

As Liam listened he grew heavy in thought, reflecting on his own life and the person who touched it the most, even if it had been only for a few months; Edward, the young teacher who came to Italy to learn and ended up teaching Liam how to come out of his ignorance and use his silver platter for good.- _“I found something amazing to invest in. My entrepreneur friend has a vision I cannot wait to help come true. Won’t you come to my dinner party and meet him? Oh you have a cold. Okay, maybe next time. Please rest up."_

Hailee smiled, her arms folded, the magazine tight on her belly as she remembered the person who inspired her even if she only knew him after his death; Edward, the young tragedy who helped change and choose a better life for her daughter and begin the long journey of turning her own life around.- _“Hi, I’m Hailee and I didn’t know Edward. My boyfriend is in a coma and, um, he may not make it. And um, I could have been dead like Edward many times...I guess what I’m trying to say is, in his death I will try to make my life count.”_

Louis quickly finished up his speech knowing Dianna was next on the platform, his hands now aching.

* 

“Harry, you came. Despite,” Dianna turned as though just noticing Harry for the night. Her diamond drop earrings swooshing, almost hitting her in the cheek, she grabbed the left side of her halter gown for shoe room and approached him.

“Despite what?”

“My dad, I mean," she said with a strangely cautious end taste. "I know it must have been hard this past few weeks dealing with him. I mean what happened with you two…" the more she talked the more uncomfortable she looked.

Harry blinked slowly in realization. “He told you about us?”

Dianna went pale. She looked utterly flabbergasted at his choice of words ‘us’ and Harry was beginning to wonder just what Louis had told her. She opened her mouth to say something but the sound of her name being called to the podium by Louis cut the conversation. With one last tongue-tied look, she slid away to the podium.

 _“Ladies and gentlemen, it has always been a dream of mine to open a branch here in Italia,”_ Dianna started with a false accent on the last word after kissing Louis' cheek. Harry smirked at her pretentiousness, still curious about their encounter. Maybe she put it together after walking in on the tension a week ago. Or maybe Crystal must have told her everything she saw.

“I’m still trying to come to terms with what you did,” a voice rang close to his ear. He recognized it to be Crystal’s. Her voice was calmer than the last time they spoke, though it did not give clues that she had let him off the hook. “But I smoothed things out with my mother. That said, I know uncle Louis loves you. He is different with you," -Harry turned his face to her- “, And I love my uncle dearly. So him making you leave the house was a shit move. He thinks he knows what’s best for everyone including himself but not with this. Not with you.”

"I don’t get it," Harry was babbled at her. "You still want me here?"

 _“...A special thanks to all the models who graced us with their poise at the fashion show...”_ Dianna went on, stopping Crystal’s little speech. They both put attention on her, and Harry swore he heard Crystal scoff into her margarita glass.

He looked at the woman once again. No doubt she was glaring scorching hot at Dianna. Harry knew she was mad at him but she never looked at him like _that._

“What did she say to you just now? Did she apologize?”

Harry was even more confused by Crystal. “What would she be apologizing for?”

Crystal did a double take on him and his suit. “What do you mean- for her part in all of this. Didn’t my uncle tell you?”

“But I saw your mother asking Louis why I was still here. I thought you must have told him you were uncomfortable with me here after your mother and I went behind your back. That the only way you’d forgive them is if he dumped me.” 

Her face went wide. "Oh no, you have it all wrong," she took a sip of her drink and pointed her index on Harry's chest. " _Dianna_ is the reason uncle Louis broke things off with you…"

~~

_Crystal observed her uncle’s robe with a smirk. Her whole face was like ‘Somebody is glowing.’ Even without words Louis knew that was what she was thinking. She cocked an eyebrow at the white cotton that flashed across the room behind him just then. “I’m sorry to bother you, Uncle Louis but I need to speak with you. It’s urgent. Meet me in the study.”_

_As Louis walked into the study ten minutes later fresh and fully dressed in a scarlet cashmere sweater and semi-fitted polyester trousers, the first thing he saw was a pink kerchief in a brown jacket and sockets to match._

_"You," he said, looking Gregory in the eye. The man looked to Crystal for help and she got straight down to business._

_"Mama convinced me last night to have a meeting with Gregory. Said he had some news purely about the company," she eyed the young man who looked back with groveling eyes. "He just finished telling me exactly who had given him Harry's info for the article. But before we go into that, I got a video call from James this morning. He showed me a picture Dianna faxed him," she held up her phone, "He said we were lucky he is your friend and gave us the opportunity to fix this as a family without getting the company involved. I told him I’d fill you in and let you deal with the situation.”_

_Louis stood in complete shock at the picture of him kissing the back of Harry’s twenty-three-year-old hand as he climbed into a waiting taxi. Harry’s eyes along with his other hand on the door of the vehicle, a bright smile on his face much like the one Louis kept putting there all night last night and parts of this morning. Initially hoping this meeting did not last too long so he could get back to Harry and their bubble, Louis shuddered at the thought of their bubble being jeopardized now. He was already angry and confused at Dianna for this, and not to mention by the caption on the picture basically demanding James ask for Louis' quiet resignation._

_"A couple nights ago Dianna said she bumped into a hysterical Freddie after he thought Harry was going to smother you with a pillow?" Crystal said, an eyebrow high._

_She continued after Louis quickly said it was a misunderstanding. "She was concerned Harry was not who he said he was after the article. She said Freddie told her Harry ran out screaming and you ordered him not to call the police. I told her you wouldn't do that if Harry was a threat, and I assured her it wasn't what she and Freddie thought it was between you and Harry- that he was a gold digger. Dianna must have taken my words the wrong way and put together incorrectly that you were the one coercing Harry into bed, and she must have radically decided that you weren't fit to run the company anymore. Hence the picture."_

_“Get Dianna in here.”_

_No less than ten minutes later, after Gregory also said his part to Louis and left, Dianna sat opposite her step-father, with Crystal leaning in front of the desk next to her. The older woman’s arms were folded and she wore a glare that spoke for her anger at her adopted sister._

_Louis, on the other hand, fought to look at the girl he called his daughter for so many years._

_Not entirely sure how to address this problem, he started with: “Your mother and I didn’t have the best relationship. We started no short of enemies and slowly became friends. Part of that- most of that- was because of you. I tolerated being married to someone I didn’t love for the sake of you and your brother. You two are the reasons I stayed. I put the three of you,”- he pointed to her and Crystal- “before anyone else. I built a company so you can run it together long after I’m gone. Whatever the reasons for it, your actions today put that company, that legacy, at risk of crashing to the ground. James would never ask me to step down without giving me a chance to fix this.” He looked at her with shame. “I_ _know I lied to you about knowing Harry before he came to work here but I did it to spare you from the scandal of my misdeeds, because I wasn’t selfish. I denied myself so you could have the future you always wanted. I know you must be angry but to throw me under the bus like that? I thought I had taught you what it means to look out for family.”_

_"I'm sorry I went behind your back. But you undermine me every time. All I wanted was for the company to move into the future," Dianna started to weep, rubbing her palms, daring not to look at him._

_"Well then you should be happy with what I have to say," Louis wiped his nose and sat up straight. “I am giving you the financial backing to start the Italian branch of IColorture. You have full reign. I want no say in it. You want the fashion branch, you have it. But it has to stay based in Rome. You are no longer welcomed at IColorture, London.”_

_“Daddy,” Dianna started to protest. Louis stopped it with a hand._

_“Have I not been fair? Despite your disloyalty you have a whole magazine to yourself. You can stay in this mansion and I go back to England and continue running the magazine I built from nothing. James can mediate between the two businesses. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Louis' voice was cold, numb._

_Crystal shook her head and said in a strained whisper. “Dianna, give us the room please.”_

_Tears falling to the table, Dianna got up and left._

_Just the two of them in the room now, Louis slapped his hands over his mouth and sobbed._

_“Dianna was wrong to do what she did. Question is, what do we do now?”_

_Beside himself with tears, Louis began to shake his head vigorously. “I have to talk to James. And find a way to tell Harry we can’t be together anymore.”_

_“Everything will be okay, Uncle Louis. No need to destroy what you and Harry just began to build.”_

_“It’s not going to be okay. I can’t even look at her, the girl I raised as my own child. It makes me sick to think about what she insinuated about me. That I would dare sexually harass him. I just banished her from the company she was supposed to run one day. How do you think that makes me feel? If I had just cancelled that bloody hotel weekend none of this would have happened."_

_“She got her own magazine to run. That’s more than she deserved seeing she almost dragged the whole business from under all of our feet. Dianna couldn’t run this company. Not the way you did. I’ll be surprised if the IColorture Fashion lasts a year with her at the head.”_

_"She’ll have help. She’ll hire staff, plus Harry can stay and help her.”_

_“You think she’s going to want Harry after all of this?”_

_“She doesn’t have much of a choice if she wants the idea of her magazine to work. And she doesn’t blame him, I’m the one she made out to be a monster. Like I said, to make things easier I’m putting an end to this thing with me and Harry. I can blame Dianna all I want, but this is my fault. You heard what she said, I made her into this. This juggle with Harry only made a bad situation worse. Me wanting something I knew I couldn’t have nearly lost me the company and hurt my family in the process. The decision is made. I need to talk to James and sort this out and find a way to end things with Harry.”_

~~

On hearing the full story, a gobsmacked Harry was charged with every emotion in the book. The ambush on his heart was so diverse he was conflicted about which reaction to give first. 

He made a slight noise beginning to form words when the two men from earlier came up to them. The blond man leaned into Crystal and the other stood on the side, eyes on Harry.

“Harry, this is cousin Duncan and his life partner Ed Sheeran. Uncle Ed is the editor-in-chief at the _ECOnoMAN_ ,” she pulled the redhead closer. “But they aren't here as businessmen," she corrected when Duncan cast her a quirky look. "They flew out to support us as family."

Duncan offered his hand to Harry, telling him he heard quite a lot about him from Louis, and that he already read his articles, and how he plans to publish every one. 

"If you ever get tired of cosmopolitanism you can always come over to economics and environmentalism. We'd be glad to have you."

As Harry grinned flattered at the offer, Ed’s hand reached forth, and Harry found himself close enough to finally get a good look at the man. As he took his hand and shook it, Harry doubted it was the same face from his dreams. This one was older, the red hair now faded orange grey. It would have helped if the man did not look at Harry like he was thinking the same thing he was- _Do I know you?_

As Duncan rattled on about how his partner runs the ecological aspects of the company from publishing articles like Harry’s to fundraising global causes- “the fun part” he called it- Ed kept staring at Harry. Even when he did not catch it, Harry felt his eyes on him like a spotlight.

Harry contributed to the chit chat and gave his gratitude but his mind was once again far- _down the left wing_ far- All he knew was he had to talk to Louis. But as soon as the formalities were over and he made a move to dart away, Dianna’s voice on the mic was introducing him as the next speaker. He heard her but he was more determined to get to Louis than anywhere near Dianna. 

Crystal was the one to bring him into focus. She grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back.

“Duty calls,” she muttered close to his ear, reminding him how important the campaign was. “Go out there and give your speech. You can talk to Uncle Louis afterwards.”

*****

Taylor and Oya cheered loudly at Harry as he said his speech, one he made for himself after Louis ended things, as a way to passive aggressively get back at him. He looked around but it was not so satisfying as he couldn't see him at all in the crowd. He was mad at Dianna right now, but even angrier with Louis for not saying something. He was talking but his entire body was anxious to get to the man. Amid the flashing phone lights, he spoke faster and bid everyone a lovely evening.

Harry publicly acknowledged the team from Romani Woman for their work on the issue and stepped down from his speech on the podium, relieved to finally be free to find Louis, but now as the live classical instrumental started up, Oya was encircling him for a selfie. One selfie turned into a series of selfies with everyone from Taylor, him, and her, to Taylor and him, to Hailee, Oya and him, and then they just decided to shuffle him over to the professional photography section where someone else other than Oya was hired for the night. At the end of it Harry hoped to god he didn't come out looking annoyed and desperate to get away in the photos.

Taylor said something along the lines of getting 'this joint lit' and Hailee clapped her hands to the effect, white heels planted on the spot, proud of her wives and their accomplishments with the magazine. She had also come with her brother, who was somewhere off getting refreshments.

The man on the other side of her, equally entranced by Harry’s speech, looked awfully familiar, though she could not place him. His eyes caught hers and it was held there. Her eyes widened as she placed him piece by piece into her memory. He seemed to be doing the same thing as his arms slackened to face her.

“Hailee?”

“Liam? Oh my gosh.”

The man flung his arms to hug her. She melted into it, swaying on the spot.

“I haven’t seen you in twenty-six years. Not since your friend's wake! What was his name?”

"Edward," he provided as they pulled apart. "Last name Selley."

Hailee nodded. "Yes."

Liam chuckled. “It’s been too long my friend. How have you been?"

"I'm swell. So what brings you to this event?”

“I’m an investor in Louis’ company. Remember he and your brother attended the conventions back in the day? Well I happened to like Louis' idea for the magazine and he shot from there. Reached the stars, I might add. I’m completely in love with this new campaign for an Italian version of the magazine. It will bring in more tourism as I’m also invested in that sector.”

“Oh, how splendid you kept in touch. I’ve recently reconnected with Louis myself. Through his new spokesperson. Have you met the young man? He seems so bright and he knows his way around the business.”

Liam’s face lit up. “Harry? He is absolutely endearing. He does remind me of Edward so much for some reason.”

Hailee laughed. “Well, it is rather funny his middle name is actually Edward.”

“What?”

“Well it says right here- _Harry Edward Styles_ ,” Hailee searched through her copy to show Liam the fine print under the center spread of Harry posing on a couch in the sun.

Liam’s face went white. “Will you excuse me for a while?” he said quickly, looking around frantically and darting off.

*****

**Louis pov**

After his speech, Louis left the party to once again ensconce himself in his study. The past week replaying in his mind, he hated what he did to Harry but knew it was necessary for his company and family. Yet he still found it hard to come to terms with Dianna’s betrayal. He couldn’t believe he had been so content with being Harry’s and had been planning to have a life with him while his own step-daughter schemed behind his back to pull the rug out from under him.

Creeping in the door, Louis threw himself into his chair. He fumbled for the top drawer and dug around for his arthritis ointment. His joints were unusually painful today. He took off his spectacles and rubbed his forehead, massaging the skin with his fingers. Turning his chair around away from the glare of the lamp, he rubbed the medicine and waited with resting eyes.

A faint closing of the door made his eyes open.

"You said you wanted to talk," he heard a tangy voice say. He breathed out, relieved when he heard it. It was so soothing even as angry as it was.

There was a hesitance in the younger man's movements but Louis did not turn the chair to address him. He was unable to with the pain. 

Harry walked over behind the desk and kneeled in the dim of his shadow.

"What's wrong?" The urgency of Harry’s tone was wrapped with concern killing the previous venom. 

Louis gave him some focus. The tall curtains blocking the garden behind him almost drowned him in camouflage if it were not for his glowing skin and glazed eyes.

"Nothing," Louis slurred, squeezing his hands together. "It's just my joints. It’s a bit cold out tonight.”

Harry moved in and took his hands and kissed his knuckles. He glazed his eyes over Louis with love. 

“Crystal told me what happened. How it is we nosedived from being entangled in each other, to this," Harry sighed, emphasis on the last word to stress how distant and tense they had become.

Louis started crying. He did not want Harry to go at all, but Dianna’s betrayal had been the last straw that broke the camel’s back. How could he explain it to Harry? That the one thing he always wanted had to be sacrificed for the family he had taken care of for all these years. That Dianna no longer trusting him had hurt more than words could say and he had to start immediately erasing the thing that caused that trust to break even though his trust in her was now shattered as well. That after he saved Niall from an older, dominant creep all those years ago he couldn’t have his family or the world dare look at him that way.

"Harry, it kills me that I hurt you again. I needed you to know that. But it remains that I'm a middle-aged man. Most of my young years are spent,” he wept, not wanting to deal with it out of shame. “You are young and have many adventures to look forward to. I don't want you to waste it on me."

Harry gazed into his eyes, tears welling up in his own. "I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay with you. I belong with _you_. If I go out there all alone I'd end up alone because then when I'm older you wouldn't be around anymore and I'd have lived my whole life without you. Don't you think that whatever time you have belongs to me by default? If you should live till seventy-five, then give me those twenty years. I want it. I want to make one old man happy for the rest of his life. I never want to leave you and go out on any lonely adventure.”

Harry's right palm pressed against Louis’ left cheekbone and he felt himself bristle under the gentle touch as the man said, "You are lucky you know that? Because if I don't end up with you now, then when I'm old and alone, I'd still love you. And I won't have you that time like you have me now. I'd just be in some nursing home with a saucer of plain bread and poached eggs, clinging on to my last memories of you. You on the other hand have me here now, so why won't you accept me?”

Louis released a tired sigh. Harry waited for an answer, but he did not give one. Instead he propped his elbow up on the armrest propped up his closed knuckles to his lips.

In a last desperate plea, Harry gripped the man's knees, looking up at him with wet, bloodshot eyes. "Louis, even though you think your life's on the decline and mine has just begun, I still choose you.”

Louis shifted the chair, his eyes closed, trying to move his body away from Harry but the man held firm.

“Tell me something; If it were me sitting in that chair; older- handsome, but older-" Harry laughed, “and you were your younger self still hopeful, still searching for your soulmate… would you accept me? Would you throw away your chance of a future with someone your age, or a career, for me?”

Louis did not even take a second to ponder. "In a heartbeat," he looked down into the green eyes that had unequivocally made him feel eighteen again.

"Then allow me the same chance. Give me the privilege of being yours and loving you and staring into those blue eyes for as long as we both shall live."

"I'm sorry. But I cannot give you something I don't have."

“I don't want anything. Just…I want you. Whatever rules you have I will abide by them. Whatever is the reason, if I'm too young, or if I'm too much a reminder of your _twin soul Harry_ , please resolve it, please yell at me, tell me off, let it all out now so we can live the rest of our lives with no issues."

Louis ripped away his hand, eyes riddled with regret. “Oh is that what you want? You want me to yell at you all the things I want to tell my twin soul? Well fine- I waited for you for years,” he shouted over the muffled violin music. “Why didn’t you come? Why didn’t you come when I was young and able and so, so ready for you? I built my life and my schedule around the prospect of meeting you. And you never came.”

Louis' voice was whiny and sad, accompanied by old tears he thought he would never cry again since letting Harry go on the Ponte Sant’Angelo all those years ago. “And as for your youth, I have watched you over the past few weeks easing into my life and charming me, and loving me and my family, making me laugh. And I will always be grateful for that. But I can’t take you from the life you were meant to live and keep you like a glass menagerie.”

Harry made a jest to counter but Louis would not let him get a word in this time.

“You deserve someone who you can roll around with and laugh in public with and not have it look like a bloody scandal, like I’m some kind of _Svengali_ who got my hooks into you. You deserve someone who is mindful of your feelings. You know that’s not me. I want you in my life but I love you too much to let it continue. I know you love your job and I know I may sound cruel, but go. Go and forget you ever knew me. You’re fired.” 

Louis covered his mouth and bawled into it like a wounded dog. 

Harry rose to his feet and backed away like he had just been stabbed in the heart. “What about the campaign?” He was not ready to give up so easily. “The magazine?”

“Dianna can have you replaced. I don’t know, maybe it’s Freddie’s time after all.”

“ _Freddie?”_ Harry said it like his throat needed clearing. “Are you really going to let Dianna run the company after what she did? That picture was private. She had no right.”

“She is my daughter,” Louis said, and when Harry’s lifted eyebrow deeming it was not a good enough excuse, he sighed and added, “However misguided she was, she did it because she was afraid for the company. Remember that, Harry? Remember the company I built from the ground up? I told you I would do anything for it.”

"She never even asked either of us about our relationship. Her only thought was to use it to take control of the company."

"She is still my daughter and the company is rightfully hers anyway."

Harry burst out in a condescending laugh. “So you choose to see the best in people. Fine. And what about loyalty? I’ve shown you and your company nothing but.”

Louis hit him a squinted eye that needed no words on what he was thinking about. The means Harry himself had chosen in the past for the company was not clean either. Harry read his thoughts well and Louis observed the man’s hands growing slack on his lancing ones. He could see the quiver of guilt and uncertainty on his lips, could feel him closing up again like a flower in dusk. He had him right where he wanted him, ready for the kill. He hated bringing it back up even after he had forgiven Harry. But he had to.

“You laid your allegiance in the wrong place,” Louis stated with as much coldness as he could muster, laying the final hammer in.

Shuddering away from him and descending into a boil of clubbers at the daunting words, Harry clutched his chest. Louis looked back up at him, his eyes red with fresh pain.

“You already met Duncan and Ed. I’ll talk to them and they will give you a job. You will do well at _the ECOnoMAN_.”

Harry shook his head, coming to accept the rejection. “Oya already offered me a spot in her new perfume venture. I had already declined because of _IColorture_ but if I have to go anywhere I would rather it be there.”

Louis studied it. “Very well. If you think you would be more comfortable there I can’t stop you.”

Nostrils flaring in difficulty to breathe steadily, Harry got up and started dragging his feet to the door. Before he touched the knob he turned to face Louis and said;

“ _If we must part forever, give me but one kind word to think upon, and please myself with, while my heart is breaking._ ” 

Louis looked up at his red rimmed eyes. Harry was quoting again. For the last time. It sent dark trickles of grief searing into Louis' veins, but he had to say goodbye in the same sadly civil, poetic manner Harry initiated.

“ _No more words_ ,’” he decided to recite breathlessly to Harry, his eyes taking in their fill of him one last time. _“We know them all, all the words that should not be said. But you have made my world more perfect._ ” 

Giving Louis one last pained expression in a reluctant goodbye, Harry gave a finalizing nod before going out of the room.

As he turned his chair to lower his head into his hands, Louis swore his heart felt a thousand times more painful than his wrists ever did.

*

It was barely five minutes after Harry walked out.

"Mr Tomlinson?" Marietta knocked and came in. She was dressed up in an electric blue-to-midnight velvet gown, dark lipstick to match for the evening. Her hair was splendidly done in an updo making her look a decade younger.

"Mr Jaleel needs a word with you."

"Send him in," Louis' spirits soared.

"Louis my boy," the man came in, dashingly in a traditional mauve suit "You are a hard man to keep up with. I've been given all kinds of directions until the lovely Marietta led me here."

The woman blushed and excused herself. 

"Save me a dance aye," Jaleel watched her go.

"Jaleel!" Louis cleared his throat trying not to picture his old friend and his housekeeper. "I saw you out there. So glad you came. I didn't mean to run off. It's just I've been missing Niall a lot tonight."

"You and me both. In fact after you left the restaurant I went looking at old photos of you and Niall. I wanted to save some for Crystal." He opened the envelope with shaking hands and took a picture out. He then handed Louis the envelope and eyed the photo in his hand. "It's quite the peculiar story, I came over this,” he then handed Louis the picture. It was of Jaleel and a few young men. Louis recognized a much younger Liam as one of them but interestingly he had his hand around the shoulder of a man that wanted to look strikingly like…

“Tell me that doesn't look like the young Harry that works for you.”

“It kinda does,” Louis squinted at the old fading picture. “But who is this man? When was this taken?"

"Many years ago, a few weeks before Niall died, this young man came into the restaurant with his possy and said a friend inspired him to come to Italy, and also told him I had the best Italian food here, so he came to try it. He asked to take this picture as a souvenir to take back to show his friend, and he gave me this copy. He sat down and while I was serving them he was talking to this man,”- he pointed Liam- “about straightening out his life. It was a pretty intense conversation and I decided I liked this young man for his wisdom and advice to his friend. I noticed this one outside," -he pointed to Liam again- "He told me he is your business partner?”

"Yeah. Liam. We met at those conventions I used to go back in the day," he observed the strange man's spectacles in the picture and an idea came to him. He dipped in his pocket to pull out his phone. He raised it to the photo and compared it with the picture he took of Harry a few nights before.

"Liam might know who this man is but the resemblance to Harry is uncanny," he concurred as the two similar men smiled at him from their small surfaces. He noticed Jaleel's curious smirk as the man stuck his neck to look at the pictures.

"Please don't ask. I've never really been good at taking advice have I?"

"Nope. Never," Jaleel grinned at the picture of a naked Harry dressed in only Louis' bedsheets and spectacles. "It seems it doesn't matter what age you are, you still have that free spirit and arrogant soul, my boy. That is why you and I always got along."

"It didn't end so well," Louis said with fresh tears, and Jaleel patted his back. 

"My boy, these kinds of relationships are like any other. It takes time and work and just like any other it may not work out."

"Well, as you see my matter was not so urgent as to make you come down to the restaurant. I just thought it was a strange coincidence and worth an insight." He pulled Louis into a giddy hug. "I'll see you for the dinner portion of the night?"

Louis nodded in the embrace and smiled as Jaleel made his way out.

Walking back to his desk, he re-examined the old picture. A few weeks before Niall died…?

 _Great, seems there was a man walking around Italy in those days resembling Harry. Just my luck. Thank you again, gods_. He took another look at the faded picture before opening his drawer and dumping it.

"Well, Freddie looks like doppelgangers were real after all," he told himself. Jaleel’s offering having caused his thoughts about Harry to nothing but escalate, Louis sobbed.

*

Louis had just wiped away all his tears, when, in came Nailee in a mini tuxedo with _A Little Princess_ under her arm and Bruce behind her, wagging his tail.

“Nailee, I can't right now," he said, frowning at Bruce as the dog hopped on the old couch and slumped down. "I just took an aspirin and-”

“I’m not here for you to read.” She climbed onto Louis' lap and opened the book at a marked page. “I want to read to you.”

Louis shifted her to one leg and peered into the book as she read;

 _“’Whatever comes,’ she said, ‘cannot alter one thing. If I am a princess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it.’_ -Harry read that to me before he left. And now I'm reading it to you, Granddad. You need it.”

“Why that particular part?” Louis observed she had taken a highlighter and scratched the whole paragraph.

“Because, Granddad, even though you’re sad that you’re getting older and you may not be Harry's age and he may never catch up to you, you have to know that your grey hairs are just on the outside, and that Harry knows you’re just young as he is on the inside when no one knows it."

Louis had no idea what to say. He was flushed that she even knew about him and Harry. How did he get so lucky to have such a brilliant and smart granddaughter? As he held her he remembered Dianna used to be that smart that small. She’d leave her beckoning mother and pull him to play scrabble with her and he’d help her pronounce the bigger words they came across. Maybe it was not too late to mend things with her. Maybe that little dependent, loyal girl who thought he hung the moon was still in there somewhere. It was all he had to hope for.

“But I will have to say, Granddad; everyone knows you are youthful inside and you are still triumphant despite it. You are the strongest granddad I know. Everybody knows how regal you are.”

Louis smiled at the girl, tears running down his pored face. “ _'Are you learning me by heart, little Nailee?’_ ”

“‘ _No,_ " Nailee grinned at his direct quoting of the book. _“‘I know you by heart. You are inside my heart._ ”

They merged foreheads and Louis felt a sense of contentment in the midst of his pain and heartache. He had a full life without new Harry. He had children and a job he loved and a wonderful granddaughter for whom he was her favorite person in the world.

Minutes later after she left for bed, Louis sat, running his knuckles under Bruce’s chin. She had left the dog with him. She said he needed the dog’s company more than she did at the moment and Bruce wasted no time when called to sit on his lap.

"I know you're gonna miss him too aren't you?" he said to the whining Labradoodle. He sighed, thinking of the workload he had to face, the new assistant editor he had to find,...and what Nailee said. 

"We have a future leader on our hands, don't we boy," he petted his ear. It's a fair point, it's what's inside that counts. I don't want him to go out there and fall for some dipshit again. But like he said he's a grown up and can make his own way….Bruce let out a bark. “But he chose me. I'm his way. Or was.” Bruce let out two barks this time, almost to say 'still are," or at least Louis took it that way. "I'm not that old, I mean if he wants me after everything…" he told the dog, and Bruce licked his jawline in reply.

Slowly Louis reached the thought that maybe…

Maybe Nailee was right. Harry had offered him a lifetime of happiness and the only thing standing in the way was him. Not even his age was to blame this time, not even Dianna. It was him and his shame. His ageism. Nailee liked Harry for Louis. So did Crystal. It was not a crime to love him. So many things can go wrong with the media and the company, but then so many things can go so right. How the hell was he to go back to a life without Harry?

He bounded up from the armchair and grabbed his jacket. 

*

Harry slammed his back against the courtyard wall. He looked around not knowing where he was going in life; he didn’t care for the job as much as he cared about losing Louis. But he understood. He got why Louis had to let him go. It was too painful to have to choose between his family and Harry. and Harry would never ask him to. If the universe wanted them together and Louis said no, Harry knew he had to obey him. Everything in him was sired to Louis, whatever his wishes. He had promised never to do anything to hurt his family again and this was part of it. He was lost now because the man rejected him ultimately like every other man he had given his heart to. 

It was starry outside but Harry only took one glance up to curse the day he was born. 

"Why give me so much misery!" he screamed stooping down to clutch his knees. Harry had been enshrouded with dejection. He was forcibly resigned within himself to live with his ephemeral love.

In the corner of his eye he caught a dark figure running toward him from inside. As they drew nearer he saw it was Liam with a magazine under his armpit.

"Harry?" he breathed heavily, stopping short a few meters from him. 

Harry looked at him with mild interest. 

"I've been looking all over for you. Or should I say Edward? Is that your name?"

"Yes. It is my middle name. Nobody calls me that."

Tilting his head to re-examine his facial features, Liam took off his spectacles and held them out in mid-air in perspective of Harry’s face. Squinting his eyes, he saw it as though Harry were wearing them.

He took a careful step toward Harry, like he was afraid he would flutter away like a butterfly if startled.

“By God. The more I think of it, the more I see it,” he gasped, fingers reaching out in mid-air.

“Do you mind if I just...?” Liam reached over and hung the spectacles on Harry’s eyes for real this time. The younger man swallowed and sniffled, baffled as to how peculiar Louis’ business partner was being.

"I almost choked when I saw on the cover that your middle name is Edward,” Liam sought to explain himself, eyes fixed on Harry. "It's a weird coincidence that you share the same name with my friend. I told you before how much you reminded me of him but now I _see_ it so clear. You're the splitting image- By God!" Liam laughed out. "You're him! He's you! You're- you're-"

“-Harry,” a trembling voice finished for Liam. And Harry bolted around by strange instinct. "Or should I say Edward."

*

Louis was halfway through the study door when Hailee appeared with her copy of the new magazine in hand. She pushed past him and was almost knocked over by Bruce who jumped up to meet her.

“Get off me, you mutt! This is _Valentino!_ ” she dusted off her dress.

“Bruce,” Louis called off the dog, already peeved with the intrusion.

“Party's full swing. Why did you disappear?” Hailee started. She began being pesky around his desk, picking up his fancy feather pen and examining it, scribbling on her palm to test it out.

Louis sighed, sensing she was up to something. “Hailee, I’m not in the mood to get into it with you right now.” His hands hurt wretchedly and he needed to find Harry. “So if you’re here to tell me how to deal with my company problems I don’t have the strength.”

“I already told you what I had to say about your company. I just want to see how you are doing. And talk about something else on my mind.”

Louis shut his eyes in exasperation.

“I know you still don’t trust me. I haven’t done much trustworthy things, but you and Niall were the two best friends I had. I’m forever grateful you gave my daughter a better life, even if you did it for Niall. I’d like to put the past behind us. Is that possible?”

Bruce got up on his hind legs, pawing at her chest. Louis looked at him blankly as she started cursing again.

“Fine,” he said, blinking out of it. “For some reason _Bruce_ seems to like you around, so why not?”

“You’re such an old sap,” Hailee said sarcastically.

“Who are you calling old? You’re just a year younger than me,” Louis shot back, grinning and managing to get her rare smile as well.

He and Hailee stared into each other’s eyes the same thought hitting them.

“Niall would have been proud of you,” Hailee said it first.

Louis lowered his watery eyes. “Yeah, you too, Kiddo.”

Bruce wagged his tail at the scene.

“Sometimes all he’d talk about is how he wished he could find that damn Harry for you already. To be honest, Louis there were times I felt he wished his name had been Harry.”

“Hailee stop it, Niall loved you.”

Hailee laughed. “He loved you, too, Stupid. Just knew you'd never agree to a threesome.” 

Louis screwed up his face, and it soon turned red when he realized from her expression that she was not joking. She then broke into a grin, causing him to let the air out of his lungs as she had indeed been joking. _Hailee._

She then turned serious. “But, even though it hurt that he chose to go with you to England, I get why he gave up on me. You were the love of his life and I was just a walking failure.”

Louis sighed. “But you were better with him. He tried really hard to help you. And instead of continuing helping you after he died, I just walked away. You deserved to be in Crystal’s life. I didn’t realize how missing you hurt her. I should have never left you behind after Niall died. That is a mistake I’m willing to make up for.”

Hailee put on her thinking face. “Well, it’s hardly going to make up for years of not being able to see my child, but it would be a start to give me an exclusive interview with your new spokesperson?”

All traces of a smile drew from Louis’ face. “Even if I were to let Gregory anywhere near my company again I can't. I just fired Harry.”

“What? But Crystal said you were keeping him on in Rome with Dianna?"

“He doesn't want to work with her after what she did. Hay, I’m in love with him but it’s just not practical to think we could have a life together much less have him working at the company when it’s always going to be tense between us," he dropped the jacket back on the chair and took a seat again. "He wants to be with me but I can’t see myself denying him a long relationship with someone he can grow old with. Am I to leave him a widower after what- thirty years max? I keep feeling like the gods are playing a cruel joke on me- The guy I was supposed to be with in my youth was kept from me until now when I can’t dream to have the life I wanted with him? It’s like they yanked both him and Niall from me and have now decided to dangle him in front of me like fish bait.”

He looked up at Hailee to see if she was following his words. The woman’s eyes were set on him, wide-eyed like she had seen a ghost.

“What is it?”

“What you just said," she started pacing thoughtfully, "They yanked both him and Niall from you...”

Louis shrugged. “Feels that way, yes. I gave up on Harry before I went back to London to see my parents. But I never truly put him to rest until the day Niall died. So it feels like I lost them both that day I left with Crystal."

Hailee grew even more antsy. She clicked her hip and shifted to ruffle the magazine in her hands, scrambling through the pages. She stopped on the spread. “Harry, Ed- ward…” she drew her eyebrows together. She ogled at Louis. “Harry’s middle name is Edward.”

“I know that. It’s in his files.”

" _Louis."_

Louis jumped, the woman’s eyes were even wider and she looked like she was about to choke.

"Well, go on?"

"Why didn’t I see this... Harry- he's Edward- Edward is Harry. _Harry_ …"

Louis gripped her arms in an effort to calm her.

"Hay, what is the meaning of this?" he mentally calculated whether to sit her down or run for water first. 

"Look at this!" She dug her long index fingernail into the magazine page.

"Harry's middle name is Edward!”

"Yes, just said I know that,” Louis said, wondering why this mattered. “ _Edward the Great_ , good English name. What’s your point?"

"What's my point!? _He’s asking me what’s my-_ HE'S _YOUR_ Harry!"

Bruce barked back at her outburst.

Louis hit her a confuffled look. _What does Edward being his middle name has to do with- Is she fucking taking again!?_

She grabbed his right shoulder, her right hand holding the magazine up to his face. "Edward is the man whose wake I went to. You remember, that man who died in the accident with Niall? The one who fell in the river? Think!”

Louis was trying to, but Bruce was barking up a storm. Louis could hardly hear himself think in the racket.

Shutting up after a sharp admonishing from Louis, the dog then sprung up on its hinds, knocking a photo down off the fireplace mantle.

“Bruce, what’s gotten into you?” shouted Louis again.

“Shut up for once, you mutt.” Hailee shooed at him as she stooped to pick up the photo. “I don’t know why you keep dogs around-” She paused as her eyes hit the framed picture. She remembered it from that fateful day, bloodied in a plastic bag like some crime scene evidence.

 _“Woof!”_ Bruce pawed the photo, nearly bringing her down with his weight. He barked in her face one more time before jumping back on all fours and going silent...

~~

**_Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation~ Kahlil Gibran_ **

_Niall would have preferred Louis stay with him like he stayed with Louis all the years when he needed him. Even though he didn’t have to stay with him in Rome, he did and he felt he was owed the same somehow. But maybe Louis was right, Niall thought, sitting at his desk, sharpening his pencil. Why stay in Italy with a druggie Hailee who couldn't get over herself long enough to put her kid to bed, when he could just go with Louis and make a real life for him and his daughter. Louis was practically begging him to go. Niall thought of the many times he had wished Louis to ask such a question and now he had and Niall was being difficult._

_He sat up straight and looked out the window at the people walking the streets, people on their way in and out of Italy and speeding to the docks in exactly the same way he and Louis did when they met twelve years ago. And it hit him. If Louis left Italy this time for good with Niall, he didn't know what he'd do. He didn't want to find out because the past year had been boring and even sadder without Louis there to keep his and Crystal's company._

_"Hey, Bert, I'm taking a break. Be back in an hour!" Niall grabbed his briefcase and coat and headed to the airport._

_Climbing out of his car, he walked straight up to the booth and opened the briefcase to pay for two tickets for him and Crystal to join Louis back to England. Niall was sure he wanted this. He wasn't even going to bother waiting to ask if Louis had already bought tickets for them. He just wanted the papers in his hand before he could change his mind._

_"What in the-?" he muttered to himself as his hand met with stacks of paper that didn't belong to him. He opened the briefcase wider and took a good look. There was a folder with charts and financial calculations..,a business plan for a monthly magazine... "Wait, wait. This is Louis' briefcase... How did I end up with it?" He closed it back immediately, sure he wasn't going to find any money in it. Louis never leaves money in his briefcase._

_Just as he was about to excuse himself from the line a hand tapped his back. "Hey! Don't leave the line. I'll pay for your ticket."_

_Niall looked up and was engaged in a pair of warm emerald eyes under huge spectacles, the owner of which was all dressed for an overseas trip in a trench coat and scarf, with a beret on his short, matte curls. The man had a slight Italian burr mixed in with an unmistakably English tongue, looked about twenty-five and had the pinkest bottom lip Niall had seen in all of Italy._

_"Thanks, but it's okay. I'm sure I picked up the wrong briefcase."_

_"No let me do something nice for you.” The man set his luggage aright and patted his coat pockets in search. “It's two you told the cashier right?" he said as he pulled out his wallet. He handed the lady his ID and money and turned to Niall._

_"I'm Edward. I'm going back to England today. I've been here the past six months studying the language and culture. I can't wait to see my Mum."_

_Niall smiled. He missed Ireland too. Nostalgia skipped up to him and he couldn't wait to take Crystal back to see his mother._

_"Maybe we can get seats close together and chat on the way?" the man asked hopefully._

_"I don't think we'll be leaving today. I still have to do a lot of packing. My daughter and I basically have to uproot our life here. I'm Niall, by the way."_

_Edward smiled. "Oh. Nice to meet you, Niall. I hope then we meet up in England soon. I'm a teacher there. Guess what I teach now?"_

_Niall grinned. "Italian!" they both said at the same time and laughed._

_There really are some nice people in the world...Niall thought to himself as Edward handed him the two tickets._

_The man made to tuck his ID card back in his wallet; and Niall, looking mindlessly at it, gasped out loud as his eyes shot forward._

_Edward looked at him._

_"I thought you said your name was Edward!?" Niall said, almost shouting._

_"It is."_

_"But that thing says ‘Harry’.”_

_"Harry Edward Selley. But you can say Edward. Only my ex calls me Harry."_

_Niall's eyes grew even wider. He scanned his eyes over him again. Louis hadn’t been in Rome for a whole year, and this guy was here for the last six months? Niall gasped, thanking the heaven’s he caught him before he left the country._

_Sure that Destiny was at the door, Niall sprang into action, grabbing the man's hand and yanking him away from the docks._

_"Your name is actually Harry? Omg, you're Harry!" Niall said walking speedily, briefcase in one hand and the man's arm in the other. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. This is important!"_

_Edward looked around, scared. "Let go of me! I don't have any more money!"_

_"I'm not a thief!" Niall yelled as passer's-by eyed the two suspiciously. "I have a friend who needs to meet you right away!"_

_"What in the bloody hell for!?"_

_"If you just come with me I'll explain!" Niall grabbed him and shot towards his car._

_"This is kidnapping, you know!"_

_"Trust me. I know I'm a stranger and you're sceptical but I'm one hundred percent sure you won't regret this!"_

_They stopped near the car and Edward looked around for other signs of people._

_"Okay let me explain,” Niall said, canvassing him like expensive, breakable china. "My friend is in love with you- and that sounds crazy but it's not- See, he's believed in this prophecy thing that he'd meet the love of his life at twenty-three and that his name would be ‘Harry’. That was ten years ago and he's twenty- eight now so he gave up on it. I always thought maybe he got it wrong all along. That maybe you are the one who is supposed to be twenty-three when you meet, not him - How old are you by the way?”_

_Edward grinned cleverly. “I turned twenty-four, last month, so there, I can't be your guy,” he debunked, smirking. "Plus I have someone back in England. Or at least I'm hoping he hears me out..."_

_"No, it's supposed to be twenty-three," Niall frowned, ignoring the fact that Edward said he was taken. "But just a wee month isn't bad. The odds still align and fate is still fate."_

_Edward glared at him with crazy eyes. "I don't believe in fate."_

_"You will once you meet him! He's the most amazing, sweet, patient, caring person in the world! And he's drop dead gorgeous!"_

_“Then why don’t you date him?" Edward checked him suspiciously._

_"Because he loves you. And I know you will love him too. He’s drop dead gorgeous so that won’t be a problem for you.”_

_Edward thought for a second. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that."_

_"Great, so you're coming, then!?"_

_Edward rolled his eyes. "Twenty-eight is a bit old for me but… I feel like my intuition and curiosity are telling me to go with you but my brain is like no I should get going. How do I know I'm not being abducted by a serial killer?"_

_Eyes toward Rome, Niall’s head raced. “Uh, okay, how about we drive to the nearest restaurant- Jaleel's- and I'll call Louis on the phone and have him meet us there?"_

_Edward nodded in tune with Niall’s words seeming to contemplate the idea. "Okay," he said after some thought. "I know Jaleel's so… only because you're a nice guy. I'll just meet this 'Louis' and I'm out of there."_

_Edward reluctantly but finally got in the car with Niall and shut the door, fixing his hair in the rear view mirror._

_"You're perfect, Harry. Louis is gonna take one look at that face and you two are gonna hit it off in no time!" Niall sported the widest grin paired with the feeling of accomplishment. He had done it. Wow! He found Harry. And to think it happened on practically the last day he and Louis were planning to spend in Italy after living here for a decade."_

_Life is so strange..._

_"Oh!" Niall gasped, quickly opening the latch on the briefcase. "This is what he looks like!"_

_While he was digging through the briefcase before, he had seen in the little built-in strap; a picture of him, Louis, Crystal and Hailee sitting on the park grass cuddling and laughing, looking like a happy family. He knew this was now Louis' top priority. He knew the man had let go of Harry and was now focused on his future with Niall and Crystal. But here Harry was in front of Niall and he needed to get him to Louis as soon as possible! Louis had believed for a long time that Harry was real. This was Niall's chance to show him that his dream came true._

_Pulling the picture out of the briefcase, he was one second away from showing it to Edward, when-_

_CRASH!!! BANG!!!! SWISH!!!!_

_[Car horn blaring non stop]_

_As an excited Niall had taken his eyes off the road, a truck slammed into them in a crashing wreck. The car pitched into the air and landed in a screeching skid, spinning like a top for seconds until it finally came to a stop._

_"Harry? Harry!?" Niall called weakly as he tried to move. He looked around and realized he was pinned to the dashboard and was bleeding from his torso. He pivoted his neck over to where Harry was sitting and saw that the car door had flown off, and the space was crumpled in like a tin can with barely an opening now, Harry nowhere in sight. Stretching his hands out to pat the empty seat that was soaked in blood, he let out a cry pleading for it to not be Harry's blood. His vision blurred for a bit, then became focused on the edge of the bridge; Harry must have flown from the car and went straight off the bridge. Someone had to have seen him fall. Someone had to save him!_

_He managed to free his leg from the dashboard as his blood had worked as a lubricant, and he crawled out through the crumpled window on his side. Halfway through, he heard screaming and found himself stuck. Oh no, he thought, giving it his all to push through. Then he heard iron bend and felt his position grow dangerously unstable. Then his vision turned upside down and he crashed to the ground in a heap of flesh and iron. Touching in observation, he realized he was locked in a hoola hoop of the whole wagon door. He limped two steps before crashing to the ground again._

_"Help...help..." he called barely audible as he fought with all his strength to get loose. "There's a man! In the water- Help!" he forced as he saw a few people rushing to him._

_His voice died to a small whisper and he could no longer hear himself, when he heard Louis' ragged voice calling out to him, and he fell into the familiar embrace of his best friend._ _told him the most important things before he got too weak to say them. He managed to tell him to take care of Crystal._

_"Oh, Niall!"_

_Niall was seeing blurry now. Louis' ‘rich people’ cologne, and the sound of his voice as it tried not to sound too panicked, keeping him in the present. He had to tell him about Harry. Maybe Louis can save him, but he kept shutting Niall up every time he tried to tell him._

_"I love you. Please don't leave me." Louis was wailing now._

_"Harr-"_

_"I love you, Niall. I've loved you ever since you told me to mind my own business."_

_"Harry."_

_"No! You! I love you! One blond forever, remember? For the rest of my life."_

_Everything Niall wanted to hear was being said to him on death's door. But had he not been bleeding out by the side of the road he’d be introducing Louis' Harry to him. But Louis' Harry was now somewhere drowning in the Tiber. Niall felt his life fading away with his concrete blood as the ambulance approached. He hoped someone heard him shouting to save the man in the river and hoped they would lead the paramedics to jump in and save him. God knows how much time he has in the water._

_He made a tug at the front gathers of Louis’ shirt with the last ounce of strength he had._

_"No- I pro- promise- I'll bring- him back. If I meet- him there- I'll bring him- back to you. I promise you... that if I die... I will move... Heav- and Earth to- bring- him b-ack.”_

_Louis kept shaking his head in disagreement with his words and telling him he didn’t care about Harry anymore. Grateful for the confessions of devotion only to him, he managed to lift his hand, pressing his palm on Louis’ face. Louis already knew how he felt so he didn’t bother struggling to say it. He was grateful for the confession of devotion only to him but Niall knew this wasn’t true. Not deep down. See Louis forgot that Niall knew him better than anyone else. Niall knew his heart. And he knew Louis loved him and Crystal, and even Hailee in his own way. But he knew his love for Harry wasn’t dead. He felt himself grow his weakest as his and Harry’s blood mingled with Louis’ tears. “Pr-omise you'll- never- give- up on him,” he was the last he could say before the paramedics ducked down and it all went black._

~~

Louis remembered Hailee talking about going to the wake. He remembered the argument they had after she got back from it drunk, which resulted in him taking Crystal away. But he had forgotten about the other statistic in the accident.

"You said Niall kept pointing to the river and saying _‘Water’_?" Hailee said, remembering when Louis had explained it to her in the hospital all those years ago.

Louis nodded, engrossed, trying to understand. He remembered telling Niall he loved him over and over to which the dying man’s only replies were _Harry_ and _water._ He had thought Niall was trying to say he was thirsty and that Louis loved Harry not him, but now...

“I just bumped into Liam while Harry was on the podium," Hailee said fast. "He was saying how much he reminded him of Edward. And Liam would know, because he was his good friend.”

Louis nodded, slowly making sense of it. "Liam did say something like that when he first met Harry."

"Hailee?" he then said above a whisper. "You don't think Niall..."

"-Met Edward and then they both died in that accident?” Hailee was quick with the reply. “Yes. I believe that's what happened."

Louis clasped his mouth.

“Don’t go into shock yet, there’s more,” Hailee continued. "After you left for England with Crystal, the police did investigations and found blood that wasn't Niall's on the passenger side where the door came off. Edward was the only victim of the mashup that nobody knew where he was at the time of the accident. The authorities assumed he was a pedestrian that got hit. There was no blood on the truck front or the front of Niall’s car, so they assumed Edward got his fatal head injury from a boat engine when he got pelted in. But, his body was already shipped back to his family in England by the time they figured that out, so they couldn't test it to see if it was his blood inside the wagon. But it's the only explanation. Edward had to have been in the car with Niall.”

Louis absorbed every word, scraping pieces together in his brain but- “It can’t be. We can't assume Harry is this Edward person just because he looks like him. It makes no…” He started then stopped as he remembered something Harry said. 

“Louis," said Hailee, handing him the open magazine, voice low, demanding close attention now. "That fortune teller promised you Harry, and Harry is exactly what you got.” 

Louis' brain worked like an engine. He had been so reluctant to let _this_ Harry in. To share with him the scraps from his unrequited love with the fortune teller’s Harry. And now he could very well be that Harry?

“The gypsy legends don't lie,” she added as Louis laser-eyed the page. “Edward/Harry was on his way to you just like madam Ruhina predicted. When you tie that in with the ancient legends of Castel San’t Angelo it makes sense. The archangel, Michael gave his word to spare anyone sick or wounded on the grounds."

"But that's the thing. He didn't spare Niall. And this _Edward_ died on the scene. It doesn't make any sense."

Hailee snapped her fingers. "It makes sense if somehow Harry was sent back to you. Look, Louis," she sighed, "Niall didn't come back but I have my memories. You, on the contrary, never even got to meet your twin soul. Take this as a win, Louis."

A shocked sigh burst out from behind them, and Louis had only then realized Crystal had walked in somewhere during Hailee’s talk and was now kneeling and petting Bruce’s lustrous fur. She took a seat to process all this information. 

"Let me get this straight; Papa found uncle Louis' Harry, and they both died together, and now uncle Louis has another Harry to make up for it? That fortune teller must have been really good!"

Hailee nodded frantically at her daughter. "Your Papa was most likely on his way to take Harry to Louis when the accident happened."

“I told him he was your Harry when he expressed how he felt about you,” said Crystal to her uncle, amazed. “But I didn't think he was really _that_ Harry. Now you're saying he was actually here before, and died, and now he's back? Like reincarnation? This is a _miracle."_

It was as if a thousand light bulbs lit up in Louis’ head. Harry- his Harry- was real. _Is_ real- and he had just sent him away. The realization hit Louis like an anvil in the chest; He had just turned away his twin soul.

Bruce barked in agreement wagging his merry tail at the three of them.

 _'You don't have Niall but you have me_ …' Louis dragged his hands down his face in shock. It made sense. It _all_ made sense.

He dived behind the desk for Jaleel's photo and rushed to the door.

“I have to find Harry!"

*

**Harry outside**

It was Ed. He stood behind them with a sad vindicated look on his face with a smear of tears. "I knew it was you."

“You- you know me?” Harry said, moving toward the man.

As he stopped a few inches in front of the man and reexamined his features it struck how vivid they were, almost exactly like the face in his dreams. 

Ed took a hand to Harry's hair and Harry deduced he was having the same epiphany. He grabbed Harry's face, searching every pore and every freckle for something Harry didn't think he'd find anywhere in the universe. His eyes drew tears as he pressed his fingers to smooth Harry's hair back incessantly. Shaking his head mindlessly as he kissed Harry's forehead in awe. 

“You died,” he said, voice cracking with disbelief and happiness. He touched Harry's face and he felt the same sensation from his dreams. Smelled the same soapy smell. His hand was thick and soft, a bit cold but friendly. But it was more than the dream. Harry was feeling like he knew the touch from out here in the real world, not just confined in his unconscious imagination.

"My name is Harry Edward Styles. I was born in Holmes Chapel twenty-six years ago. Do you know me?" Harry didn't understand where the question came from. He felt compelled to ask.

"He doesn't- He can't be him," said Duncan, and that was the first time his presence registered to Harry. He had been monitoring the scene, his silhouette camouflaged by the potted plant behind him. He spoke with a sustained calm but looked terrified.

But Ed didn't respond to his partner. Instead he said to Harry, "We were...we used to… You wrote me a goodbye letter and then you left. Something about _chasing dreams_. But I felt you slipping away before you even left for Rome. The look in your eyes. I couldn’t do anything to stop you."

“Rome?” Liam rejoined. “Wait- do you mean- Are we both talking about the same person; Edward?"

Ed sent Liam a brief nod before focusing his gaze back on Harry, who was now pasting his fingers all over Ed's face trying to figure out if he was dreaming now. 

"He grew up in a village where everyone called him by his middle name, Edward. I'm the only one who called him by his first name because mine is Ed and it just seemed weird to call him that."

"This has to be a coincidence, or I'm losing my goddamn mind," Liam blurted out, rubbing his eyes like he'd just been pepper sprayed.

"It's not a coincidence," a voice rang out from behind him. Ed and Liam whirled around to see Hailee there in the moonlight, flanked by Louis, Crystal, and an eager Bruce. Coming up a few paces behind them was Zayn with Dianna and Freddie.

Louis’ eyes locked on Harry, who took off the spectacles on seeing him. Ignoring everyone's stares, Harry detached himself from Ed and raced for Louis, throwing himself into the man's arms. Crying, he remained there as the others started talking.

"You remember talking to me at Edward’s wake?" Hailee asked Liam as Louis' arms enveloped Harry. "You said your friend was about to go home to England when he died. But you were confused as to why he ended up in the Tiber river instead of on the road to the airport in the opposite direction."

Hailee told them what she had just told Louis about Niall and the car. Harry pulled away from Louis and stood like a ghost among them. Distraught, from the looks of him, and Louis was too frozen to move.

At the end of it, Liam nodded wildly. "It's as though he- is some kind of reincarnation, if you believe in that stuff. But Ed here says he used to date Edward, so he'd know for sure."

Louis knitted his brow at the man, totally confused. He looked at Ed, who began to tell the story of him and Edward.

"...he wrote me a letter saying he had to leave to chase a dream. That he made a bet with a complete stranger." He said it with an edge particularly at Louis. He continued and stopped at the part only Liam could finish; _what happened in Rome_. 

And that was where Louis provided the photo.

"Jaleel just showed me this a while ago. Said he came to the restaurant with you, Liam." 

Liam looked at the photo. "I remember this! This is the day he convinced me to invest my money in a good cause. The day I decided to call you back to Rome, Louis." Everyone rushed over to Liam, bending their necks to see the photo, gasping and murmuring at the resemblance. Harry grew even paler at the sight of basically himself in spectacles.

Louis suddenly remembered something Jaleel said. "Duncan, do you remember that Halloween party we went to?"

Duncan nodded. "That was Edward and Ed's party. Remember I had to drag you in, and you ended up dragging me back out." 

Louis laughed at the memory. Duncan had been merely casual acquaintances with that couple at that time, and he and Ed had found their way to each other after Edward died when Duncan had tried to be there as a friend during Ed's grieving stages. That friendship later bloomed into more and Louis had found himself a new friend in Ed, cheering on the relationship even though it took Ed a while to warm up to him. He never understood why Ed was so cold to him in the beginning but now he knew why.

Louis' eyes fell on Ed and went wide as golf balls. "You were _The Riddler_."

Duncan chuckled, remembering. "Oh yeah! I remember teasing Edward about his costume. I mean it was the nineties and batman was super big. Almost everyone was dressed in the theme, but Edward, he had to be unique. That's one of things I remember most about him."

"So you remember he had a boyfriend?" Ed shrugged at Louis tritely.

Louis sighed. "Ed, is this why you didn't like me in the beginning? I swear I didn't even know him. Nothing happened! I just told him how nice Rome was."

"Ed, I had no idea this was plaguing you. Why didn't you say something?" added Duncan.

"What was I supposed to say? _'The love of my life is probably dead because one of your closest friends egged him on to go to some foreign country he doesn't know_ '?"

Louis chimed sympathetically, "You should have said something, I'd have set the record straight. I met- well now I know his name was Edward- We talked and he was nice and we made a deal. He said he would chase his dreams if I chased mine. And it took me a while but I did. I came back to Rome to see Liam."

"Well, it didn't take Edward any time at all," Ed put in. "He took all our savings and left for Rome immediately."

Louis then looked at Harry, whose face was pale in the light coming from inside the gala. "Edward came to Rome like he said he would, and I came back here too, to chase my dream. We were both in Rome at the same time." Harry began to stutter, saying he had no idea what Louis was talking about. 

The full story now dawning on him, Liam then intervened and reminded Louis he had almost met Edward at his dinner party.

"Then I walked onto the fresh accident scene," Louis replied, eyes all over Harry. "We missed each other by possibly minutes."

"Something must have gone wrong with the spirits that day," Hailee put in thoughtfully, the sound of Taylor's laughter inside briefly taking her attention.

That was where Zayn spoke. "Harry, those dreams you've been having. It all adds up. You've been dreaming about another life. Somehow you must have come back in the same lifespan of everyone you once knew."

"That doesn't usually happen," agreed Hailee. "Like Crystal said; it's a miracle."

"You're right. There has to be some reason for him coming back," pointed out Liam.

"Maybe he had unfinished business," Zayn said pointedly, looking at Louis. 

Louis mulled it over, blocked memories coming back to him. 

Ed shot eyes on Harry as though expecting him to give the reason.

Harry flushed but did not look any more enlightened. In fact, he looked confused as hell. He looked from Ed to Liam to Louis.

"Okay, but if this Edward is me, what was he doing- what was I doing in Niall's car?"

Louis turned to Hailee again. "I thought maybe Niall was on his way home to get his briefcase just like I was on my way to his workplace to get mine, but thinking of it now... He went to buy the tickets and on the way back home he… I can only imagine he met Harry- Edward- sometime during."

Hailee’s eyes grew dismal. “Niall was probably so excited to bring you to Louis, he crashed.”

Harry drew his eyebrows together. "Are you saying that on my way to meet you I died? And came back!?" He was so befuddled he wondered if it was best he called the fire department to check the premises for a gas leak. Maybe that explained everyone's weird consensus on this whole reincarnation thing. And it would explain why he was starting to believe it too. He shook it off determined to lean on common sense. "This is crazy!"

"Harry, think about it," Louis said. "You have a fear of water, and you are awfully sensitive in the back of your head; the exact place where Edward was gruesomely injured in the accident. I never would have connected those two things had Hailee not brought it all up."

"Plus, you're four years younger than me," Crystal added. "You were basically born after all this happened. It all fits!"

"It's obvious we would have met if the accident didn't happen. But we did meet eventually. Three years ago." He brought Harry's hand to his lips, closing his eyes to kiss it.

Seeing the way Harry looked up into Louis' eyes as he kissed his knuckles- so full of reverence- Dianna held her heart. "Harry, I’m so sorry. I thought he was taking advantage of your past occupation having had a history with you and maybe using you to sabotage my work. How I was so wrong. I didn’t know you two were in love."

Freddie was aghast. "What is wrong with you? What part of our step dad is the victim did you not get? I mean obviously Harry turned out to be innocent but how do you come to the conclusion that _Dad_ was coming on to _him_?”

Hailee provided an answer. “Because she’s an ignorant, stupid little bitch just like her mother."

Amid gasps, Louis looked at Hailee sternly, and Crystal’s eyes went round. "Mother!"

Harry’s face twisted, confused and still overwhelmed. 

"You thought he was coming on to me," he gave Louis a grave look, crumbling into sobs. "But no, it was the other way around."

As he pulled away from Louis, both Liam and Ed moved toward him in reflex, and he was suddenly uncomfortable around all three men.

“Don’t come after me,” Harry said, giving Zayn a hard look to say that includes him too, before scampering away into the dark.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” Dianna clobbered. It's just. I thought you were going..."

"Senile?" Hailee snapped. "You young people are always quick to think fifty is like a hundred. If so then what age does that make you!?"

"I was going to say a _mid-life crisis_ ," Dianna defended herself.

Freddie jumped in. "You better be sorry, Di. If I were Dad I’d be ashamed of you!”

But as Louis glanced at his step children he couldn’t have been more ashamed of the _both_ of them. 

Liam handed the photo to Ed who stared at it as Duncan gave a comforting hand. "He looks so happy in Rome. Happier than I ever made him."

Louis' heart broke for Ed and he related to the fact that one can still love someone so freshly even so many years after losing them to death.

"You can keep it," he told the man who smiled weakly with gratitude.

As they heard one of the chauffeured car doors slam and the engine start up, Louis turned to Hailee for more ‘bright ideas.'

Her response was- “Go after him.”

“ _Woof, woof_ ,” Bruce reiterated, and Louis shot for the garage.

A firm hand on his bicep stopped him mid-sprint.

"He won't want to talk to you," said Zayn, eyes dark. "He's already upset with you and you're just gonna confuse him more."

Louis put his hand on Zayn's and shook his head vigorously. "I know why he's here. I know why he came back. I'm not losing him again. I have to go bring him back home!"

With a nod, Zayn let go, and Louis ran like the wind.

~~

**flashback--**

_‘So cool, she was like_

_Jazz on a summer's day_

_Music, high and sweet_

_Then she just blew away..._

_Come and see me_

_I'm the same boy I used to be…’_

Neon was an understatement. Louis' eyes burned. Dancing with a stranger in a weirdly decorated apartment that looked like his eighth grade science lab meets disco to Steve Winwood’s Valerie was the last thing he thought he’d find himself doing after his father died.

Another drink slid into his hands as the guy leaned in hard, off balance from all the jostling bodies on the dance floor. He nudged Louis to move with him through the crowd, and Louis obeyed until they reached the small balcony of the grunge apartment.

"So, who are you going as?" Louis asked from his batman mask, a good real-looking one covering his hair too, still totally not worth the heat and clammy sweat underneath it.

" _You gotta ask yourself one question; Do I feel lucky?'_ " the guy replied with a handgun gesture.

"Clint Eastwood in _Dirty Harry_ ,” Louis guessed, impressed. “I should have guessed."

"Yep. And you?" the guy said, his coy lips the only expressively visible part of his face.

"Chicks like the car. And by chicks, I mean dudes," Louis slurped on the Styrofoam cup.

 _Dirty Harry_ let out one boisterous laugh, body shaking to the bass in the background music. "So tell me about yourself, Batman."

"I’m a journalist, I have my own paper, but I want to take it to the next level. Went to a couple business seminars. Nothing in stone yet. You?"

"I'm actually a teacher. I taught Language Arts for a while and now I teach Literature. I want so badly to branch out and teach Italian full-time.”

Louis' two eyebrows went up at the coincidence. "Oh!"

"I've only been to Rome once when I was fourteen, though," he said like a question. "I'd like to go back for a while and spend some time among the locals to expand my knowledge but I don't have a passport yet. I'm afraid of planes."

" _Never had a lesson?'_ " Louis joked, quoting from the movie.

The guy made a face like he wasn't fond of the sarcasm. "And what are you doing in a costume party not mingling anyway, Batman? I didn't see you come with any dude in particular. Seen you brush off a couple blokes."

"And?"

"Well, where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't have one- Yet."

"Haven't met the right one?"

"No, well, I don’t know, there is this one person but it’s complicated.” Louis stretched his arms out on the banister and looked out into the city below. “He’s perfect but we belong with other people, you know. I have to wait for that _one_ .” And Louis heard his voice break. He thought after burying his father he would surely forget about Harry, forget about his _castles in the sky,_ but more and more every day he found himself wondering where he was and if he knew there was a Louis waiting for him somewhere.

 _Clint Eastwood_ ’s eyebrows went up, appalled. “So you blow off Mr Perfect to come to a party full of hot guys and not try to find out if one of them is _the on_ e- yeah that makes a lot of sense.”

"What?” Louis said. “You prefer I smoke weed, get lost in underground clubs, throw myself at any guy, let random men touch me? Been there, done that. I would rather wait now. I have but two dreams; own my own monthly magazine one day, and meet the man I’m destined to be with."

"That. Is. Super depressing," the guy snickered. "The second dream, that is."

Louis took that as a challenge and ended up spilling his wish list of requirements and was even smug about it.

"Wow, you are crazier than I thought," the guy smirked.

"You have another suggestion?" asked Louis hotly, annoyed now.

"I think you should start focusing on the dreams that have a better chance of coming true," the guy replied, his eyes lips curling like string and making him look wise and intelligible.

"And I think you should focus on _your_ dreams,” Louis shot back, thinking how much this guy sounded like his dad.

 _Clint Eastwood_ slowly stretched on a penetrating grin, and Louis swallowed hard stepping back from the sudden wave of heat between them. And for some reason he wanted to blurt out that he spoke fluent Italian and maybe he can tutor him sometime but something stopped him.

"Does Mr Perfect have a name?” the guy asked softly, not noticing Louis' reserve.

"Harry!" Someone called and the young man turned in response, a large dimpled grin on his lips. Louis jumped at the sound of the name and almost flatlined when the guy dashed off to the person and started kissing them.

 _Har-ry?_ Oh, _Dirty_ Harry… he forgot.

In the dark Louis recognized the _kissee_ all dressed in green as the redhead who invited him and Duncan.

Louis was sinking into different thoughts to clear his mind, when a light fabric brushed his arm and a sweet smelling breeze whipped his nose. He turned his head to see the man at his side, peering at him through the shades.

"I'll tell you what. I'll go to Rome if you chase the right dream from now on. I want to be a subscriber to your monthly magazine one day."

Louis burst out in a smile.

"Deal?" _Dirty Harry_ raised his pinky. 

Louis' grinned wider as he put out his little finger. "Deal. And if you do end up going you should check out Jaleel's ristorante. They have the best food around."

The guy laughed and promised and Louis almost forgot his boyfriend was right there. He was about to ask his name and contact but the guy suddenly remembered and dashed away with his boyfriend to mingle with the rest of the guests. 

Heading back inside, Louis saw a plastered Duncan shimmying in the corner by the fireplace by himself about to fall over. Leaping into action, Louis rushed over and grabbed him just in time.

“Come on, D. Party’s over.”

*

Fine leather meeting hard cobblestone as he dismounted his bike, Louis marched over the Ponte Sant' Angelo. There was not much traffic tonight, making it easy to tail the car.

Louis glanced at the scene. It was a magical place but even more splendid at night. The air was warm and the moon was throwing a milky film over the calm river. The building lights sparkled over the cobblestones and Harry's skin as he leaned on the banister looking down at the water. The man saw Louis coming and backed away from it, moving toward the mausoleum entrance. Louis saw him incline his head high up, and followed his gaze to the Archangel's statue.

The sight made Louis pause. The last time he saw this place at night was the day he got the prophecy about Harry and broke up with Niall. Seeing Harry here now so fragile, hurt, and confused, just like he was that evening made Louis break down on the spot. He gripped the banister and cried with a laden heart as the memories flooded him.

_‘Love...A pure, overwhelming and lasting love surrounds you. It comes, at twenty-three, one that defies odds and stands the ultimate test of time.’_

_'My middle name is Edward after Edward The Great but I like to tell people it’s Edward Scissorhands…'_

_'Even when the world is against it and you try to comply and ignore it. And it doesn’t go away, you’ll know. You’ll know when it is impossible to put it at rest…'_

_'I know I wasn’t there but I still feel it, Louis. I still feel the frustration of not having each other before, as if I were there through it all, feeling your loneliness with you. I can’t explain it but from the day we met I felt like I belonged with you. You loved this person named Harry for years without knowing what he looked like or sounded… I know it's impossible but I feel like it's me and I'm here now.'_

As he approached, gaining strength to continue, Louis could already hear the rise and fall of Harry’s breath and his pattering about from running so fast. Running away from him. He slowed down as the man came into view, back turned to him, hands on a pottery shelf behind a fern. Louis heard a congested sniffle leave his nose and he died another death inside, vowing to never allow the man a reason to run from him again. He figured he'd wait to say his part, he didn't want to cause further confusion to the young man.

"I thought I would get answers,” Harry said nasally without a look at Louis, not moving from his spot. “That he would somehow tell me I'm not some other dead person. I used to believe St Michael fights for us, but now I'm not so sure. I did die after all. Even St Christopher didn't save me and according to Ed I was in a foreign country," he could not hold up the entire sentence.

“Harry?” Louis stretched out his arm, his own breath ceasing on awaiting Harry's response at the sound of his voice. Getting a small head turn but no reply, he touched his back, right on the backbone, and Harry finally flew around. The look on his face alone told Louis it was best to respectfully back away. But he was oh so beautiful. The man he was told would be his life, that he had never met, didn’t abandon him but died on his way to him and couldn’t come sooner. And when he came he was just as devoted to Louis as Louis had been to him all those years ago.

Louis looked up at the sacred statue's face, coming to the decision that he believed once again. "The angel… he brought you back to me," he said, not knowing how or why the angel would do that. "You know one of the key attributes of a twin soul is making you confront the parts of yourself you rather keep hidden. You brought Hailee back and made me see how wrong I was about taking Crystal. You made me face Niall. You kept shoving that damn journal in my face and made me confront it."

“If you think...” Harry started but paused as his voice slammed into something at the edge of his throat. He shut his eyes and bit his lips, swallowing to get it together. “If you think what they said back there, that you got this weird confirmation that I’m indeed the Harry you waited for is going to change anything, you’re wrong. I’ve been around you for weeks and you kept me at arms’ length until you didn’t, and I thought we had a breakthrough. I thought we were finally going to be together. But in the end you still rejected me. So now what, now you finally know for sure that I’m the same Harry you pined for a few years too long, and suddenly you can’t stay away from me? You let me go. I went walking out the door with my things and you didn’t stop me. And when I came back you turned me away. You didn’t even call me while I was gone, you bastard.” Harry's speech spiraled into chaos.

“I did call you,” Louis eyebrows tensed. “You sicked your friend on me. He was so self-righteous, spewing out things, comparing me to your exes.” Louis was still angry he was even put in the same sentence with those two sorry excuses for boyfriends.

“Well it's not like you gave him a choice. At least I have a friend who has my back and doesn't disappoint me."

“You're right. He basically sang your praises so much if I didn’t know he was just your friend I'd have punched him through the phone line.”

Harry’s face darkened. Louis knew in daylight that color would be red.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two had something more than friendship.”

“How dare you?” Harry’s voice escalated with a growl, though Louis could only hear the feebleness. Louis knew he was fighting the urge to just fall into his arms and cry until he fell asleep but he knew his pride wouldn’t allow it, so Louis thought it best to try to wear him out.

“How dare I what, Harry?"

“How dare you suggest I’d throw myself at another man so soon?” His eyes were huge and his lashes gathered in drenched groups, giving the whole thing a natural beauty glow. Louis’ eyes moved down to his lips and he had to swallow hard at the plumpness of them. Even in the moonlight they were aesthetically inviting. He chose to refocus on his eyes which didn’t help much but the false venom in them allowed him the stability to remain in stubborn mode.

“Right, how dare I suggest you’d ever think about other men,” Louis said defiantly. “You'd never lead them to your bedroom at the drop of a hat, you'd never actually go out and join an escort service for that matter, now would you?” he looked to the floor for a second with a cocky eyebrow.

Harry shut his mouth and folded his arms, livid. “You are loving yourself right now aren’t you? Making fun of my past. If it weren't for that past you’d never have met me. That would probably have worked out in your favor since I’m such a curse on your life.”

Louis felt backed in a corner. He looked into Harry’s eyes and saw that he knew that they both knew that was not true. 

Deciding to drop it and go back to his previous thought, Louis sighed heavily. "Look, just hear me out, okay?" He continued when Harry pursed his lips in compliance. "I told you Niall passed out in my arms. But before he did, while he was still able to hold on to me he said something. He said he would bring Harry back. I thought it was the blood loss causing him to talk that way. And when you came into my life I never considered it was an option. I would never have thought that Niall...but it looks like somehow he did because here you are standing right in front of me."

"So because Niall said," Harry laughed at himself then hit Louis with an angry look. "You let me walk out of your life over and over and now because _Niall said_ you take me back?"

"Stop making this into a joke, Harry. I'm just as confused as you are but I am trying to fit this all to make sense."

"Is that all you care about- making sense? Why did you follow me, Louis? You obviously don’t want to make it right.”

“I came here to ask you to bloody marry me,” Louis said it really fast, really loud, startling Harry. "You know when you told me the _Herculean Times_ saved your life I was touched. And when you told me I was responsible for making your dreams come true with your job I was flattered. I thought surely these were happy coincidences. But back there when Sheeran said… I vaguely remember that night at his party, but the one thing I remember is Edward laughing and telling me what an idiot I was to wait for a phantom guy to sweep me off my feet. And him telling me-daring me- to chase a dream I had control over. God I wanted to kiss him- I wanted to kiss him so bad that night.”

Harry looked away and shuffled around like he was looking for an escape. Like it was too hard for him to hear. But Louis had to get this out.

"I was conceived in Rome,” Louis went on. “My mother knew the name of her soulmate before she met him. When I got engaged to Danielle I knew we weren’t soulmates because I grew up seeing first hand what it was. I came to Rome looking for that and realized that not only was I living in the same lifetime as my soulmate but also my twin soul; the other half of me. All I got was the name. I dated so many people named Harry but none of them felt right so I gave up. When you told me on your first day at the office that your name was Harry, I _everything_ but fainted. Every deep shadow in my bowels told me it was you and I refused to believe it." Louis had to take a moment to clutch his belly and breathe.

“Louis,” Harry began to shake his head.

"No, I’m not done yet,” Louis stopped him. “You are so much more beautiful than I ever imagined.” He held Harry's teary face. “You were promised to me in my youth and you're here. And you’re not just the Harry I dreamed up. You didn’t just appear now after all these years. You were here before and you tried to get to me before and you didn’t make it. But you found a way and you came back for me. You didn’t let death stop you from returning to me. So I'm here to ask you to marry a very flawed man who will spend the rest of his life making up for hurting you the way I did."

Harry looked him all over the face and pulled away. "Do you know why I took that job as an escort?" He walked past him and they turned to face each other again, "Because I thought I was broken. I was always the weird kid. I thought if I can't be with a guy who doesn't objectify me then why not just let them pay me to share their company. You made me see there was someone like me. With you I felt normal for once. But if we can have all these things in common and click so well and still you reject me, then what does that say about me? Am I back to being a weirdo that nobody wants?” Harry began to cry hard, covering his nose. “I thought you were ashamed of me. That I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Louis moved in and wiped away some of Harry’s tears, whispering “No, no. I never thought that. You don't get it do you? You say I saved you more than once, but you saved me first. Edward is the reason I came back to Rome to see Niall and Liam. He's the reason Liam invested in me and helped me pick myself up and build an empire after Niall died. An empire Edward could come home to in his next life. This life that you are living now. You're here because _you_ laid the groundwork in your past life. You made all of this possible. And the fact that we saved each other without even knowing it or knowing each other means we are twin souls. Parallels of each other. You bring out the best and the worst in me. You to the surface things I should face instead of burying and bottling them up. You made me face my history with Niall and what I did abandoning Hailee. Niall said it. He said it would be like this." He closed his eyes and merged their foreheads, "-feel like this."

"No." Harry let his forehead drop on Louis' chest, not letting himself touch Louis any more than that. “That’s too much to lay on me. I can’t be your Harry. Or _Edward_ , I just can’t.”

“Okay," Louis kissed the top of his head. "But how about this, how about you, Harry Edward Styles came into my life when I was lost and hopeless and made me smile and laugh and brought back life into my heart? How about you brightened everything like the star you are?"

Harry sobbed uncontrollably, a big ugly grin on his face. "I love you."

"And I love you," Louis wrapped him in his arms. "I understand how confusing this must all be for you. It is for me too. I promise we can drop it until later.”

“Thank you. And no,” Harry’s eyes were a sparkling jade in the warm lights. 

"Did you not hear what I just said?” Louis almost laughed, his heart filled with a blissful ease he had not felt in a long time.

“Yes, and my answer is no,” was Harry’s definite response. “I don't want to marry you." Louis was so confused at Harry’s words since they didn’t match his eyes which were piercing into Louis with passion.

“What do you want, Darling? I’m stomped here.”

“I mean, I want to marry you. Eventually. But- I want what you promised me.”

“What I promised you?" Louis searched the air for what that could be. “Okay, you’re rehired.” He flayed his hands triumphantly.

Harry dropped his shoulders. “No, you idiot. I want to go on that date with you. We pinky swore.” He grinned up at him.

Louis frowned obliviously for a second until it hit him.

“To the movies? You still wanna go?” he was catching his rear to understand why Harry still wanted a simple date after everything that happened.

Harry nodded widely. “I want the chance again to see where it would have led. I don't want anything grand. I want to be simple and spontaneous with you. You have no idea how much I was looking forward to that movie with you.”

“I’ll do you better”- Louis rushed to turn around then back again like he was just entering. “Hi,” he said, hand out. “I’m Louis.”

Harry cat-eyed him for a moment and Louis could see him thinking the same thing he was, that this was supposed to happen on their movie date.

Grinning with deep dimples, Harry placed his hand in Louis’. “I’m Harry.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Harry. Would it be too forward for me to ask you out to the movies exactly two days from now?”

Harry bounced an eyebrow. “Why two days?”

Louis cracked a smile. “Because we’re going back to England tomorrow.”

_“We?"_

“That brings me to another request. Would you sit with me on the plane back to London?”

“What about the job here?”

“Dianna is staying in Italy. She can manage on her own here. I need my new _Executive Editor_ back at home. So what do you say?”

Harry lunged finally, latching on to Louis like his life depended on it. He rested his chin on Louis’ shoulders, and Louis kissed his head desperately wanting to carry across that he had now thrown out all his previous misgivings.

As they lingered in the moment, Harry thought about what had been said by the others "We must really belong together if I had enough time to die, be born again and grow up to meet and fall in love with you."

Louis broke into a happy nod and kissed Harry on the lips. 

~~

_Niall opened his eyes and plodded through large double doors. He could not see where he was going, his eyes were covered with a cloudy white mist as though sprayed with fake snow. With each step he took it faded and his surroundings became clearer. Coming into full vision, he saw it was the interior of Castel Sant' Angelo._

_He continued up the familiar steps though something was different about them- newer._

_At the top, a large hall with marble Renaissance styled paintings and glorious light that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. Something about it was immaculate and the quiet was peaceful rather than the deafening ‘nothing’._

_Taking in the bright scenery, feeling like he had been asleep for a long time, Niall jumped. A moan grew behind him and he spun around to see a muddled man matted in gulps of blood lying on the otherwise pristine floor. He looked dead but as Niall looked on he began shifting awake. He was not there when he came in but had now appeared while he was looking out the window._

_As Niall squatted halfway in defence mode and scanned the man his eyes opened wide. It was Edward, the man he had just met and found out was Harry- Louis’ Harry. But…It shot up like popcorn in Niall’s head all that had happened._

_Making sudden quick movements to check himself for blood and injuries, he was surprised and relieved that he was as clean as a whistle, not a speck or bruise. His work suit was still as crisp as it was when he had put it on that morning._

_“Where- am I?” Edward stood up now and looked around, his spectacles all cracked and askew. His eyes landed on Niall. “You kidnapped me!” the man cried, pointing accusingly at him. He let out a gasp when he saw blood in a stained trickle down the arm of his shirt. “What did you do to me? You tortured me! Are you going to kill me!?"_

_“NO!" Niall yelled, “I'm just as confused as you are!" He scanned the place. "I think we're inside the mausoleum."_

_Edward’s jaw dropped, as he took in the serenity of the place. It did look like the mausoleum, only much more splendid, free from weather of hundreds of years of existence._

_"Where is everyone? It feels like we're in another version of the mausoleum. Like a different dimension or time zone."_

_"The spirit world version actually," - a soft echoing voice came from behind them and the two men jumped - "I prefer it without the noise and bustle of the human world. Kills the peaceful aesthetic." The voice moved to form a human figure._

_"Who are you!?" Niall stuttered._

_The wizened androgynous figure, robed in pure white with majestic golden wings bowed its head in humble greeting. "I am the archangel, Michael."_

_"What!?" Edward said. "How are you here!?"_

_Niall stiffened, eyes latched on the angel. "I think we're dead."_

_"The flesh, yes," the angel said with empathy._

_"What the hell happened to us!?" Edward shouted._

_Niall put his hand under his chin to signal Edward to not say that word._

_Edward saw it and rephrased. "I'm sorry, but I'd like to know how it is that I'm dead."_

_"Your lives were the collateral damage of a spiritual battle I had been fighting on your behalf."_

_“What battle!?”_

_Niall thought, remembering the angelic roles from his Catholic upbringing. “Were demons after us?”_

_“That is correct. The demon that destroys destiny was particularly interested in using you today, Niall. It was a bitter fight getting him off your back. Luckily Anteros was there to help. Christopher, on the other hand, is probably somewhere weeping. I sent Peter to check on the poor thing."_

_Niall’s eyes shot open wider. “Anteros? You mean- the god of unrequited love?”_

_The angel nodded. “A fallen angel would be the correct term. Not all the fallen ones turned into demons on descent. Some of them lived among the humans over the centuries, some helping them. And some expressing dominance, wanting to be referred to as gods. Anteros, though arrogant at times, has proved one of the good ones.”_

_“What was the demon using me for? I don't get it?”_

_The archangel looked sternly at them. "Louis, and Harry,”- his twinkly eyes brushed over Edward- “were supposed to formally meet in England, not Rome."_

_Niall squinted his eyes. "That's not what the fortune teller told Louis-"_

_"We do not mingle with dark sorcerers,” the angel admonished. “They inhibit destiny and twerp it for their own gains, harbor demons knowingly and unknowingly. The woman on the bridge has no right telling people who their divine counterparts are. No man has that right. She has caused the many fates of those who appear before her to be intercepted and dashed because of this transgression. But she had crossed an especially pertinent line giving the young Louis Harry’s name. Harry was fourteen years old and had not gone through enough personal or physical growth to merit a reunion. They were simply to pass each other like strangers that evening and have Louis walk away unscathed from the disquiet that came with knowing he was not walking away with Harry. But the woman went and told Louis the age I had planned for them to meet; twenty-three. I had to reschedule the boys’ reunion for England instead of here in Rome like she had told the young Louis simply based on her empath abilities.”_

_"But why not just make her leave?"_

_The angelic smiled. "Free will, remember?" Those two words explained it all, and Niall understood. But the angel carried on. “It is also why I didn't stop you from grabbing Harry's hand at the ticket booth and ripping my plan to shreds…But I will say- it is because of my actions that you are both dead."_

_Niall and Harry exchanged looks of woe._

_The angel started strutting back and forth, as he explained himself, "See, it goes like this; I have the power to heal or even bring back –by reincarnation- those who suffer or die on the castle grounds, but I have no jurisdiction for those who perish in the Tiber river that flows beside it."_

_“But why?” Harry asked, feeling the back of his head. There was no pain but the blood was everywhere._

_The angel’s eyes dimmed. “They are not meant to come back to the land of the living, neither ascend. Their souls are stuck forever. That river is governed by darkness.”_

_“That’s why the medieval patrons drowned murders and thieves in it,” Niall said, understanding fully now._

_The angel nodded. “The accident was bound to happen as I had no choice but to stop the sorceress’ version of the prophecy from coming true. By attempting to forge their reunion in Rome you, Niall, messed with pure angelic fate and that's why I had to fight the demon. See, he gave me an ultimatum- Demons play nothing but games of death and pain- He knew if he got you to do his bidding and make the gypsy’s prophecy come true it would establish that the sorcerers can be in charge of destiny with the angels. I could not let that happen. Sorcerers are humans and have no business seeking to attain oneness with the angels without fulfilling their mortal life lessons._

_“So to stop the gypsy’s version of the prophecy you decided to kill us?” asked Harry, aghast._

_“I did not mean for you to die, though I knew it was a possibility. The demon taunted me that the only way to stop you from taking Harry to Louis was for the car to stop. The demon knew that the game could either end in death, or in his victory over angelic fate. It was quite a struggle, he kept infusing more anxiety in Niall to get to Louis as fast as possible. And every time I tried to slash him with my sword he’d swing onto Harry’s back and whisper sweetly to him that his destiny is near. I had to make a quick decision on what to do.”_

_“So what now?" Niall cut across. "You bring us back right? You just said that.”_

_Harry’s face turned grave. He grabbed Niall’s wrist. “You're not getting what he is saying. I fell in the river."_

_Niall gasped, eyes remembering. “And I fell on Castel Sant'Angelo grounds.” He looked at the angel. “You didn’t know he was going to fall into the river did you? You thought maybe if we both died on mausoleum grounds we’d be able to be reborn. Right?”_

_The angel sighed. “Right, only technically you did not die on Castle grounds. You died on Tiberino Island. That reason alone allowed me to claim your soul on pact with John of God, who watches over the hospital that sits on the doomed river. So again, I was lucky with you, Niall."_

_Niall was jaw dropped at all this scary information, and coming so close to perdition, his body dying and his soul making it out by its skin._

_"Had Harry survived the accident Louis would have met him in Italy perhaps at the hospital- I could not let it happen, remember?”- Niall nodded quickly and the angel continued- “Had Niall alone lived he would have told Louis about Harry and his death, and Louis would have gone on pining about how close he was to meeting his twin soul. But what’s worse is that had Niall lived he would not be able to make the bargain he is about to make on a dead Harry's behalf.”_

_"What bargain?" Harry asked, exchanging looks with Niall._

_The angel set a piteous glare. "See, I had to throw a still living Harry in the Tiber so that Louis would not know he was at the scene of the accident or part of it. I wish I did not have to do it but hiding him was necessary for destiny. I cannot say who lives or dies in a crisis, only the angel of death can say. I only fight the underworld and restore balance. So as the crash was happening, I could not take the chance of not knowing which of you would survive it and what consequences would ensue, so after quickly throwing around ideas with Peter on what to do, I tossed Harry in the river where none would know he was in the car to begin with." The angel paused sorrowfully. "Niall, you have a second chance to be reborn as you died on the ground but Harry doesn't as he died in the Tiber river. Louis has for all intents and purposes, lost his twin soul forever.”_

_"No! He has to get back to him! There must be a way! This is my fault! Harry has to have a chance! Please tell me there's something I can do!"_

_Harry grabbed his shoulders, eyes bright with tears. “It’s okay. You have a chance to go back to your friend. Besides, I had someone else I wanted to ask out. But that’s shot to hell now.”_

_“No!” Niall shouted. “See you never met Louis. I wanted you to get to know him. He’s this trusting, tender man who takes fortune tellers at their word that he would find The One and spends years dating all the wrong ones just to find the right one. He meets Harrys at costume parties and gets his hopes up thinking they might be The One. I don't want you to go back and look for your guy, I want you to find Louis and love him.”_

_Harry tilted his head sympathetically. “He sounds amazing but- actually, speaking of costume parties, I met the guy I was going to ask out at one, and we clicked. I really wanted to get back to England just to see the look on his face when I told him I went to Rome. He’s the reason I came. We made this crazy deal. It’s so silly, we were dressed up and I couldn’t even see his face and I have no idea what he looks like, but after we talked I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had this crazy wishlist for the perfect man for him. It was hilarious-”_

_“Wishlist?” it resonated with Niall. He gasped. “Plays the piano, ass like Bruce Springsteen?”_

_“Yeah that’s the one! How did you-?”_

_Niall raised a pointed eyebrow. Harry’s turn to gasp._

_Michael quietly chuckled to himself._

_Niall was ballistic. “Oh my god he met you! You met him! He must’ve not known. Wait he told me about you- he said you were dressed like Harry from a movie!” Niall hit him on the bloody chest. “How could you do that!? Dress up as someone with your own name?_

_“Well, I thought it was funny at the time.”_

_“He said you clicked but you had a boyfriend!” Niall gasped into his hands. “Harry this is huge. And now we're dead. But this can’t be happening._ _I can’t let your soul stay stuck for all eternity. He has so much love for you, you have no idea. You deserve a chance to be loved by him. There has to be a way.”_

_Michael then spoke again. "You are right about all of it. They had met before.”_

_“So then the prophecy already came true your way and not Madam Ruhina’s. You could have just let me take him to Louis. We didn’t have to die!”_

_“Actually their meeting was anonymous so it doesn’t count. I like to keep my miracles thorough. Although it did not take place in Rome, they never exchanged names.”_

_Niall laughed dryly at the smart of this guy._

_“But is a way for Harry still,” Michael said with a smug grin. “This is where the bargain comes in. There is only one way Harry can go back during Louis' current lifespan."_

_"Please, tell us!" Niall begged._

_The angel was only waiting to be asked, and he zealously answered, "See, Peter and I calculated the odds that if Niall were to die on the ground I could bring him back by rebirth to restore balance. So the truck tossed the car back this way.” He referred to the castle. “If Niall had lived with Harry dead in the Tiber- “_

_Niall was quick on the draw. "I know, I know; I'd tell Louis about Harry and he'd be sad forever, so basically this all means that my death is a good thing - Just tell me how I can get Harry back to Louis!"_

_The angel’s thick brows drew in meditation. “For that to happen you must give Harry your second chance. You are the only one qualified to make that choice."_

_"What does that mean?" Harry asked._

_"It means that if Niall gives you his second chance at life for you to meet Louis, then Niall can never go back to the land of the living."_

_"Do it," Niall commanded without hesitation. "Go. Take my second chance! I promised Louis I'd send you back to him."_

_"I can't do that!"_

_"It’s my fault you ended up here in the first place, so please don't worry about me! Louis needs you. He believes in you like a kid believes in Santa Claus. There is no Santa but we both know you are real, so there's no reason to keep Louis wondering. Go!"_

_"What makes you so sure I'm going to meet him or even fall for him this time?"_

_Niall sighed sharply. "I met you. I was taking you to him when you would have seen each other’s faces and exchanged names in London like you were supposed to. I won't be there this time to mess things up so I have to believe you'll find him again on your own. Besides, you were drawn to him without even knowing he was the same guy you liked back in England, or you wouldn't have gotten in the car! You are his twin soul. I'm certain that you will fall for him again!"_

_"Yeah, but there's just one thing; He'll be so much older by the time I grow to an adult!"_

_"That's not going to be a problem if you really love each other,” Niall shook his head wisely. “ Love conquers all obstacles, even age! I've known Louis since he was eighteen years old, and he has loved you every day since then. And trust me; he ages like fine wine! Plus, knowing Louis, he would still love you even after a lifetime! Please do this for me, Harry. I need this for my friend. He's been there for me when I needed him. He took care of me when he didn't have to and this is my chance to pay him back, even with my last breath I want to do this for him!" Niall said desperately._

_"Why would you do this?” Harry was befuddled by Niall’s chivalry. “The angel clearly gave you the green light. You have a family."_

_"Louis has waited for you for so long. I was taking you to him. He was finally gonna have you. Just a little again and he would have been happy for the rest of his life. But I was careless. I should've contained my excitement and watched the road," Niall emoted. "Now not only has he lost you but he lost me, the one who was always there for him. He's going to need you, Harry. He needs you to help him get over my death. He needs you to complete him."_

_"I can't take your place in his life not knowing if I will even find him again?"_

_"You will! Just believe, Harry."_

_The younger man finally sighed and accepted the offer. An elated Niall threw his arms around him._

_“How will he accept me?” Harry said in a worried haze. “How will he know I’m his twin soul? Maybe if I have something in common with you, his best friend he might warm up to me more?”_

_Niall thought about it then grew a peaceful smile. “Let’s hope you get acquainted with Literature.”_

_“I’m a Lit teacher, so that’s not going to be a problem.”_

_The angel smirked and flared his fingers fancily. It was a personal looking gesture that would have gone unnoticed otherwise but Niall saw it._

_"What did you just do?" he asked scoldingly._

_"Oh nothing, except give him all the qualities Louis wants in a companion, make sure he gets Louis' attention."_

_Niall went berserk. "The list. Good thinking!" Harry laughed and twisted to get a view of his behind._

_As Niall embraced Harry and bid him farewell, a bustle was heard entering the chamber._

_"Is he gone yet!" It was two kingly figures rushing in and skipping over to Michael. One of them looked like he had been in an inconsolable state, rented clothing and pasty eyes, and the other was quite chipper, whispering with Michael like old buddies at a tea party._

_"I present to you St Peter, and St Christopher," he told the two new souls, who looked on speechless at all the gold and rich garments. He then turned to the members of his host. "I didn't think you two were coming. I was in the act of bestowing gifts on the young Harry for his journey."_

_Peter grinned. "It's extremely rare rt release a soul twice in the same lifetime. We couldn't miss this for anything."_

_Christopher then spoke in a weak voice. "If I may, Michael, I was unable to be much help to Edward as without a coin or pendant there was nothing to plead with the river demon."_

_"Christopher, you know better than anyone else that the pendant would not have done any good in bargaining with that fallen angel who guards those depths. But if it gives you comfort I can bestow the young man a light in your favor for his journey."_

_Christopher's spirits rose. "That will be most appreciated!"_

_They all smiled in relief and the archangel watched as the two young souls said their final goodbyes. Niall looked on with the saints as Harry walked towards the light and into the living world._

~~

The kiss was long and hard and meaningful among the brightly lit angels, and neither of them wanted to part. And when they did, they got right back in there with smaller ones and giggled into each other’s mouths until they finally stopped to look at each other thoughtfully. 

"So now you believe we were made for each other?” Harry said into Louis' shirt, voice still hopeful even though his wish had been granted.

“I had thrown away all my hope," Louis wiped away Harry's tears. "Now it seems Niall had my back even that day and thereafter. He sent you back to me. I didn't know before, but I do now." 

Walking back over the bridge and telling the chauffeur to go back to the house alone, they hopped on the bike and started up the engine.

*

Reentering the compound, they parked the bike and sauntered back into the noisy Gala. The whole team was draped around a table, save Dianna, who was circulating, keeping the other guests entertained, acting as if nothing happened.

"You helped put together an amazing scenery, Harry," Louis took a deep breath, taking in the sights again.

"Just one of my many talents, Boss."

Harry tangled his fingers in Louis palm just as they bumped into his parents.

"So. You're the man behind this whole shebang," Harry's father quipped. "Harry tells me you also made it your business to seduce him."

"Robin!" Anne flushed, clearly embarrassed in front of the magazine mogul, who was clinging tighter to Harry's hand now.

"Dad!" admonished Harry.

Robin ignored him. "I'm not gonna lie, I was coming here ready to put you into perspective but I must say after mingling with a few of your peers they only had good things to say about you. It seems you are a very respectable man, Mr Tomlinson."

"Please, call me Louis," he stuck out a brisk hand to the man, who hesitated to shake it.

"I can understand how my child has intrigued you, but Harry is smart and caring. He deserves only the best. I trust with your busy schedules he won't be neglected?"

"Sir, I have every intention of giving Harry a very important place in my life. You have my word he will have a bright future in my care."

Anne gasped, looking at Harry like she had just witnessed a proposal. 

Robin nodded, looking at where their hands were intertwined, face not softening in the slightest. Harry knew he just trying to keep up the protective dad image even though he knew inside the man was already convinced.

He finally lifted his hand to shake Louis'. "Alright. I'll take you at your word. But don't expect me to call you son."

"Trust me, I don't," Louis said with a grin and the three of them laughed. Anne hugged Louis and kissed Harry before the latter two moved to see what the team was up to.

Dan had now joined them at the table, confused at what was going on, and when he saw the two approaching hand in hand, he nearly lost it.

"What is this!?” he roared. “Sir, you do know dignified guests are present? What if they see you with this… this-”?

"Dan, will you do me favor?" Louis said, not taking his eyes off Harry.

"Of course, Sir," replied Dan, casting beady eyes on Harry.

"Go pack your bags. You're fired."

Louis took Harry's chin and kissed him. Hailee let out a laugh as Dan stood aghast, exchanging looks with Freddie.

"You heard him, go pack," Freddie said in self-preservation, but Louis ignored him, choosing to stay in the moment with Harry. Louis even heard Gregory chuckling next to Crystal, the man’s presence another thing he chose to momentarily ignore. 

“Louis,” Harry said, pulling away for air. “You just fired your attorney.”

“Who do you think gave Dianna the picture in the first place? Gregory named him as the mole. He’s the one who leaked the info about you to _Onsetter_.”

Harry gave a look, finally understanding who Hailee was arguing with Louis about earlier.

“I should have gotten rid of the shiftless, trifling bastard a long time ago.” Louis felt like a weight off his chest as Dan walked away. After the divorce Eleanor had shed every link to Louis she once had, only calling the children occasionally from remote islands with Sebastian and letting Louis make major decisions in the company without her input. It took Louis longer to see that Dan was just extra baggage from the marriage he needed to shed. 

Growing chatter sneaked up behind them and they turned to see Taylor and Oya taking seats at the table with Griffin.

"Great, now we can drink to the new magazine," Nick cheered, his eyes raking up Griffin, who as far as Louis knew was straight. Yikes.

"And happy endings," Oya said, raising her glass and smiling at Harry, who was all snuggled against Louis' side.

The two men joined them and they all toasted to a bright future. Louis kept his arm around Harry, wanting to make up for lost time.

Louis never felt happier than he was right now; Everyone cackling at Marietta and Jaleel tangoing on the dance floor _(“Don’t even think about it”_ Louis told Harry before he could open his mouth to suggest joining them), Taylor playing footsie under the table with Hailee why she and Oya ordered an annoyed Louis to smile better for a selfie they imposed on him, Gregory and Crystal reestablishing something as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor, Duncan and Ed on his left catching Liam up on the latest business trends...

"' _Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be_ ,'" Harry whispered in his ear, leaning in closer.

Smiling brightly, Louis held the sides of Harry’s head, whispering back to him; _“I intend to hold you for the longest time...”_

And he meant it. He was adamant to make his new life with Harry as happy as he had dreamed. And one day leave Harry with so many memories to cherish that he would feel his love long after he was gone.

"Let's seal it," Louis said with a smirk as he stuck out his finger to Harry.

"Deal!" Harry replied with a grin, curling his pinky around the older man’s and arching his head up for a gentle kiss.

**The End.**

  
  


**Closing credits song :** **Finer Things- Steve Winwood**

\--

**Soundtrack-**

**Fearless- Louis Tomlinson**

**For the Longest Time- Billy Joel**

**The One That Got Away- Katy Perry**

**Valerie- Steve Winwood**

**Someone saved my life tonight- Elton John**

**We can make history (Young again) - Elton John**

**All Coming Back To me- Celine Dion**

**Beauty and The Beast- Peobo Bryson, Celine Dion**

**Scenes from an Italian Restaurant, Billy Joel**

**Name- Goo Goo dolls**

**Ocean Eyes- jens cover**

**If You Ask Me To- Celine Dion cover**

**Falling- Harry Styles**

**Happier- Ed Sheeran**

**For You- Liam Payne and Rita Ora**

**Afterlife- Hailee Steinfeld**

**No Judgement, Heartbreak weather- Niall Horan**

**Back to Life- Hailee Steinfeld**

**Nights in White Satin- Moody Blues**

**And So it Goes- Billy Joel**

**If Life is So Short- Endless Summer**

**No Ordinary love- Sade**

**Prologue soundtrack:-**

**False Confidence- Noah Kahan.**

**I Can Dream About You- Dan Hartman**

**Vienna- Billy Joel**

  
  


\--

**Mid credits bonus scene-**

**_Saint Michael the Archangel,_ **

**_defend us in battle._ **

Niall glowered at the spot where Harry had just stood, the angel returning his hands in prayer position after sending him back to the land of the living. He peered at Niall.

 **“** Seriously? Niall looked at the angel, “You let Harry die in the river just so he wouldn’t meet Louis in Italy? I may have told Harry it was my fault but it's not. It's your fault! You threw a badly injured man into the Tiber knowing he was unconscious and would drown.”

St Christopher gasped at the new spirit’s audacity. St Peter looked to his superior, who stated calmly;

"I weighed the odds, but I also knew your heart. I knew if you died you would do this for your friend. Had you lived I knew you would tell your friend about Harry and he would want to see him alive or dead. That would have ruined destiny plus he would never be able to meet Harry in any lifetime ever again. I did not want Louis in that much pain. It was hard enough watching him pine over the years for someone I could not deliver all because a gypsy decided she wanted to trap him in Italy. The angel of death cannot share who lives or dies before their time with any man or spirit."

"But the accident happened here, on your grounds," Niall argued. "You should be grateful it happened in Italy on your castle grounds and not somewhere unholy where I cant use my rebirth clause."

The angel smiled at Niall. “You? With your fascination for ancient and sacred monuments? This scenario could have happened near any one of the sacred shrines dedicated to me around the world.”

Niall gave a little “okay-you-have-a-point’ head toss. 

The angel got in again. "I have a task ahead of me. While Harry goes through childhood once more I have to weaken the twin soul bond he shares with Louis significantly; it is the only way Louis can get through losing you, Niall. He has to abandon his youthful notions of love and whim.”

“I wish there was some way I could still go to him and make sure he’s okay.”

"You’re stuck here. You will not see your daughter again as your only chance at rebirth is after Harry’s next death. Unless…"

Niall laughed. “What is it now, angel?”

“If you want to see her in this life again there is one way, and that is to go back in a form that is not human."

"You mean like an animal?"

The archangel nodded. "I can make it so you end up exactly where your daughter is, but there is one thing."

"Are you gonna tell me or…"

"Since your very soul is bound to Louis and Harry’s cause, you cannot be reborn until it is time for them to meet. That is twenty-three years from now.”

"Wow. So I really messed up their meeting, didn't I? Wish I knew what that would have been like."

“Let me show you." The archangel waved his hand and a large cloud of smoke swallowed them up and emitted them into a different time.

The first person he recognized in a large, nineteenth century style room that had to be Louis' parents' mansion was Duncan. Looking bubbly just like in the pictures he sent Niall, he was having a laugh with none other than Harry, and gesturing for Louis to come over. Niall nearly ran for the hills when he saw his own self in the scene, his arm shifting from around Louis' shoulder.

"Edward, this is my cousin's best friend, Louis. You might have met him at the costume party last year."

Harry's face looked like he had been waiting for this moment forever and as he stuck his hand out to shake Louis'.

"Oh it's you! Batman!"

"Dirty Harry, right?" Louis tried to recall. 

"Yeah, it's actually my name- Harry. I thought it'd be cool."

Louis went mum, completely stupid for a moment before shaking it off. "It- it was," he stammered. "Looking back in retrospect."

Spirit Niall watched as Duncan excused himself to drag Niall around the room to mingle with the few party guests, and was weirded out watching himself drink and hearing his own voice whine to his cousin. Spirit Niall watched Duncan pull _Alive_ Niall over to a cute redhead bloke.

"You have a lovely house, Louis," Edward said to Louis, and spirit Niall could hear the flirtatiousness in it.

"Thanks. This was all Duncan's idea. He's pretty obsessed with my house," Louis joked and Edward giggled. "You and uh, your boyfriend, your place isn't half bad either," Louis said, eyes dimming, Duncan busted out in a laugh from across the room. They both turned; the redhead was in the middle of a joke to him and Niall. Spirit Niall knew right away it was not funny since alive Niall was not even moved to smile. Duncan must really like this guy.

Louis turned to face Edward and saw him staring at Ed with a raised eyebrow. He caught on to Louis watching him and looked away. "Oh we're not here together. We broke up a while ago. Before I went to Rome actually."

Spirit Niall saw his friend's face light up like Christmas. "You went!?"

"Yeah," Edward giggled and went into the whole story of his time there, walking them over to the love seat- the only available seating. They sat close, both not showing even the slightest discomfort as they chatted about Rome like they were the only two people in the room. Spirit Niall couldn't help but smile at how well they hit it off. Or would have…

St Michael then stepped in and waved away the scene.

Back in the spirit version of the room, the scene disappearing, Niall sighed. Louis' perfect love, his perfect romance would have been waiting for him in England and he would have been so happy. On the bright side he is about to have a second chance to see Louis again. 

“That’s the past. The what ifs. But I need to know it’ll happen again in the future. Can you show me?”

With a fervent nod St Michael waved his hand, forming a clearing through mist, and Niall gasped, taking his first look into the future.

Louis, his face firm but grungy, tiny stubbles of grey lining the edge of it, stood looking on at a few people. Niall recognized Harry right away playing an upbeat tune on the piano. A Billy Joel he recalled dancing to at his prom the year before he left for Rome. He was serenading a young woman with blonde hair down her back. But it was the other woman that struck spirit Niall. This one's hair was short just past her ears and she had a smile Niall recognized. As she laughed, her head turned to face him and it was like she was staring right into his eyes, and he realized. This had to be Crystal. The way Louis was looking at her, it had to be. If spirits could shed real tears there would be a pool of it in this grand house Niall was peering into. With all the emotions he was feeling seeing how grown up his little girl was and how Louis stayed and watched over her like a father would, Niall was one word- proud. Of the both of them. He guessed he knew Louis would, it wasn't a question, just seeing it happening before his eyes at some future time where Niall no longer existed was- everything.

As Louis left the space, the others started talking, and the first woman, he suspected was part of Louis' new family said; _“Sounds to me like in a way he didn’t want to let go of Niall.”_

"That's _Uncle Niall_ to you sweetheart," he corrected tritely but in vain as the mist cloaked up the scene again.

He was immediately transported into another vision. This one he was at the mausoleum but it looked even more different. Older. His eyes embraced Louis again and he was glad to see his healthy looking friend walking with Harry who looked slightly older here than a few minutes ago. He followed them straight up the stairs and into a room- the armory room, he noticed- just like the one he was in presently.

A woman stole Niall’s attention as she moved with graceful svelte through the small crowd. He was admiring her shape, until she came right up to Louis from behind. Niall watched as she extended her hand stopping short of touching his back. The hat she wore then lifted a bit and Niall gasped. It was Hailee. The look on her face was of a frightened longing that made Niall suspect she had not seen Louis in a long while. 

“Wait, she's not in their lives? What? Why?” She changed her mind and turned the other way, walking to the exit. Niall flew into action. He had to get Louis to turn around and see her before she left. He called out to Louis and someone in the room heard him, a tourist who had been watching the frescoes jerked his head in his direction. He figured it must be some force of the overlapping time and space that caused it to work this time. “Great, I just need Louis to hear me.”

"Louis!” Niall called out louder, and this time Louis nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Okay, that’s enough peeking. Let’s dissolve this,” the angel waved his hand and the scene disappeared, bringing them back to an empty, more majestic-looking room.

“He heard me!” Niall shouted. "I need to fix whatever is happening to my family!"

“Yes, but you know he cannot get you back yet. Not in this spirit form. I just can’t decide what to send you back as.” Michael fiddled his chin.

“Oh I know, a-” St Christopher began.

St Peter cut him off. “Please don’t say a pigeon. I have enough of those in the square I have to look after.”

“A peacock,” said St Christopher suggested instead.

“How bout just a cock,” Peter clipped, and St Michael looked at him.

“My dear Peter, I don’t think you want to go down that road again,” a mellifluous voice said to them. A small, handsome man, shorter than Niall but with a slim well-sculpted figure, in robes of Ivory and a bow in his grasp had just walked in through the wall, and Niall had to stare. 

“Anteros,” Michael chimed. “So lovely of you to join us. Quick, make a suggestion what animal we should bring Niall back as.”

“Well, that’s easy,” the stately figure said, giving Niall a once over. “Since he stood in between Harry and Louis all this time and messed with destiny it’s only fear he be brought back as a Labradoodle.”

“A Labradoodle?” Niall complained. “The heck is a Labradoodle?”

“It’s a cross between a poodle and a Labrador,” Anteros explained matter-of-factly. “Very nicely done. I was happy to witness the first breeding a few years back. But what’s more, the two dogs are Harry’s and Louis’ favorites, respectively. They were the first types of dogs they owned as children, and they were the first to teach them how to love and take care of another creature. Instead of keeping them apart like you did before they can bond over you.”

“Forgive me but I’m going back mainly to see my daughter, not be some cuddle buddy to the lovebirds.”

Anteros shrugged. “Just put him in the hands of his next of kin when the time comes."

Niall sighed, accepting his fate.

"We have twenty-three years to decide, but you know that time is but a flicker to us angels. Until then may your soul find peace with us." The four spirits gathered around him and steered him toward a bright shining light.

“When I go back," Niall stopped for a second, "I at least get to choose my name?”

*

**Final word-** You cannot help who you fall in love with, and sometimes, they may be quite older — or younger — than yourself. Naysayers may tell you it won't work out; however, according to couples who are in such partnerships, like any other relationship, you make it work.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All these songs were supposed to be scattered in certain places throughout the fic like I did with I Remember You Laughing but I gathered them up and put them as the soundtrack. If anyone wants to volunteer and make a Spotify list for it just send me the link so I can add it at the beginning. 
> 
> Note- The parting quotes of the two men in the study are from the works of Thomas Otway and Terry Prachet respectively.
> 
> The epilogue I had planned is pretty macabre on reading it. I was apparently in a dark place when I wrote it so I will take some to redraft it into a happier ending and get that to you guys whenever.  
> Kudos and comments and nice words of recommendation are welcome.
> 
> A very special thanks to Tee, Sara, Hiba, and B over on twitter, you guys were so sweet and helpful to me with this. Special shoutout to Lola on twitter who constantly slips into my dms asking if I was done with the fic yet before I even posted it, you gave me confidence to post this at all. 
> 
> To all readers, I love you for your support. Be safe. Stay safe!

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Kudos and nice comments are greatly appreciated.


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